iNeed Help
by Monsterchild
Summary: Sam is attacked and she can't think of anywhere else to run besides to Spencer. Now it's up to Spencer to save her from the world. Spam. Rated T right now, but may change in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

iNeed Help

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but I really wish I did own Jerry Trainor.

Chapter 1

Sam pulled her coat tighter around her body. The winter weather was really bothering her. Usually, on the rare occasions that they did get snow in Seattle, she, Carly and Freddie would go out and have snowball fights on the roof of the apartments. But this year was different.

Freddie and Carly had left her nearly four months previous, heading off to college halfway across the country. Sam hadn't planned on going to college out of state, just taking some courses at the community college. And that's what she did, but it left her feeling sort of lonely.

She still visited the Shay apartment almost every day though. It was certainly better than staying home, where life just sucked. And hanging out with Spencer wasn't that bad, he sure made things interesting, and he would always make sure that she was fed, which she loved about him.

Spencer had been doing well and keeping himself busy with his art. He'd also been dating another artist for the last two months, a pretty young blonde who understood his craziness and was just slightly more normal than him. They were so perfect together, and Spencer seemed to walk on air when he so much as thought about her.

This made Sam feel even lonelier, however. Spencer had someone that he could turn to when times got rough, someone to make him feel better about all the shit that went down. Sam was tough, that was true, but that didn't mean that she didn't need someone to talk to about her mom and the trouble at home, and with her two best friends gone and Spencer in a serious relationship, which left her without anyone.

She turned down an alleyway, a shortcut that she had discovered about a year ago, and she immediately stopped in her tracks. There was group of guys, all of them a few years older than her, huddled in a circle, talking in hushed voices. She wasn't sure, but she suspected that she just walked in on a drug deal. One boy saw her and gestured for the others to look up, which they did. They stood staring at her, every single eye on her. "What'cha doin' here?" one voice croaked.

Sam was a little freaked out, she had to admit, but she put on her tough face and replied, "Just passing through." She tried to walk past them, but one shot his arm out, holding her back. "I don't think so," he hissed.

She took a deep breath; she just wanted to get to the Shay's apartment. "Look," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, "I just want to go on my way. I didn't see anything."

"Damn, right, you didn't see anything," the guy holding her back said, reaching into his pocket with his free hand. "And we'll make sure you don't say anything either."

That's when Sam saw it. Glinting in the street light, a butterfly knife in the boy's hand. He flipped it open and called to the others, "Grab her."

Sam reacted instinctively, bringing a right hook across the boy's face and backing up quickly. She turned to run, but at least five sets of hands reached out and grabbed her. They pinned her against the brick wall, waiting for the other guy to regain his composure. He stood slowly, wiping blood from his lips with his free hand and facing her. "You'll regret that," he growled. She just spit at him in return.

"Hold her still!" he barked at the others, and they tightened their grip on her. He smiled evilly and said, "This will be so sweet." He held the blade up to her throat. "You didn't see anything, and if you say anything, I'll make you wish I killed you."

She gulped but snapped, "I'm not afraid of you."

He leaned in, bringing his blade away from her throat and whispered, "You should be…"

Sam gasped as the cold metal blade jabbed into her stomach, and she could just feel her whole body going weak. Even though she was wearing a thick jacket, she felt cold all of the sudden.

The boy pulled his blade from his victim and flipped it closed again. "Let's get outta here, guys," he commanded to the others. Glancing back at Sam, he said, "Tell anyone what you saw, and I _will_ kill you."

Then they were gone. Just like that.

Sam had sunk to the ground, gasping and pressing her hand against the wound. Things were getting a little fuzzy. She needed some help, and she needed it now. But it was unlikely that someone would come down this way. Sam was sure that that was why those thugs felt safe down there.

She steadied herself on the wall as she stood. Her legs did not want to support her body weight. She wobbled as she walked, but she tried to stay focused. Only three more blocks to the apartment… two more… one more…

She burst into the lobby, earning a strange look from Lewbert, and stumbled into the elevator. She kept her breathing steady, slow, and deep. Her extremities were tingling and the blood on her fingers made her worried. There seemed to be so much of it…

The elevator reached the floor, and Sam staggered out of it, using the walls as a guide as she wobbled down the hall. The Shay apartment wouldn't be locked, and she knew it. She nearly slammed into the door as she shoved through it. "Spence!" she called out weakly. The room was swimming around her, she didn't know if she could stay standing much longer.

He emerged from his bedroom and saw immediately that something was wrong. "Sam?" he asked, rushing toward her. "What's wrong?"

Her whole body swayed. "I… need… help…" Her entire being went limp and crashed onto the floor. She could just barely hear him shout her name in the distance before the whole world turned black.

AN: Intense! Anyways, I thought that this would be any interesting concept. Please R&R! And I hope you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but I asked Santa for Spencer this Christmas so maybe I'll get him…

Chapter 2

Sam woke up in a daze. She didn't know where she was, she didn't even recognize it in the least. She looked around, taking in each new sight. There was a machine keeping a steady beep going next to her. There was a tube tucked into the back of her hand leading to a bag of fluid hanging above her. Glancing around more, she noticed a few cards on the side table next to her bed, not to mention a couple of Tupperware containers of gravy.

She smiled. It must've been from Carly through Spencer, or maybe from Spencer himself. She didn't like not remembering why she was here. She didn't like not remembering what happened to her. It all felt… so… strange.

She tried to sit up, but a voice interrupted her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," the familiar voice warned.

Her head swiveled around and found Spencer leaning against the doorframe, a bouquet of flowers in hand. "Hey," she croaked. Her voice sounded so weak and unused, it felt like it was sticking to the inside of her throat.

He made it across the room to her bed in three long strides and set down the flowers on the table. He sat down on the edge of her bed and ran a hand along the side of her face. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

She tried to ignore the turning feeling in her stomach at his touch and replied, "Uh, okay, I guess."

He smiled and ran a hand through her matted blonde curls. "That's good, how's your wound?"

Her wound? She had no idea what he was talking about. "What?" she asked, showing her confusion.

Spencer cocked his head to the side. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head. She really couldn't remember anything. All that filled her head was fuzzy memories and the words, "Tell anyone, and I _will_ kill you." She wanted to remember, she really did, but she couldn't. "I have no idea."

He let his hand rest on the top of her head. His other hand reached out and rested on her stomach, sending a stinging sensation through her abdomen. "Ow… OW!" she hissed. "What did you do?"

He chuckled and smiled at her. "I didn't do anything," he replied softly. "That's where you were stabbed."

Her eyes widened. "Stabbed?" she repeated. "I was _stabbed_?"

Spencer replied with a stiff nod. "That's what the doctors think. They _said_ it looked like a stab wound…"

She removed her gaze from his, looking down at the blankets on her lap, and shook her head. "I was stabbed…"

He moved his hand from her stomach and took her hand in his. It felt so light, so weak. He could just feel her fear through her skin. "We're not sure though. We don't know what happened. Only…" he sighed. "Well, only you do."

She scoffed. "No, I don't. I have no idea what happened. I don't even know…." She hesitated. She wasn't sure she wanted to ask, but she wanted to know. "I don't even know how you found me."

The hand that had been resting on top of her head slid down and cupped her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. "I didn't find you," he said softly. "You found me…"

Sam's breathing became shallow and quick. Her heart was thumping hard against her ribcage. Spencer's touch was driving her crazy, but she didn't know why. He was her friend… Her best friend's brother… Twelve years older than her… "I…went to you?" She could feel her cheeks burning bright red now.

He nodded, muttering out a "yeah." His face dropped into a serious look that Sam had never seen before. Spencer was always way too chipper, it wasn't like him to be serious. "What's wrong?" she asked.

His hand moved once more, now resting on her cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. His eyes didn't break their gaze into Sam's eyes. He looked so serious… "Don't scare me like that ever again," he whispered.

She was taken aback. He was scared? He was scared when she showed up? "S-Spencer?" she stammered.

The grip he had on her hand tightened, and he finally tore his gaze from her. He just stared down at the bed. "You just… you came into the apartment and called out. I came into the room and you collapsed… All that blood… I- I panicked…" His grip tightened even more. "I was going to call 911 but… I didn't know how long it would take them, so I picked you up and put you in the car and took you there myself. Then I had no idea for hours if you were okay…" His grip got even tighter. "You scared me, Sam. I thought you were gone."

She pulled her hand from his, leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the embrace, his fingertips digging into her back. They sat there for what felt like hours, his arms around her, her arms around him. She rested her head on his shoulder; he let his fingers roam through her blonde curls. Sam, for the first time in her life, felt the overwhelming urge to cry. But she didn't. She sucked it up and just whispered to Spencer, "I won't ever be gone, Spence. I'll always be here…" She wanted to stay there in his arms forever, to never leave his side again. The way he held her was just driving her mad, making her want to kiss him…. Geez, what was she thinking? This was Spencer! She needed to stop thinking like this…

He squeezed her closer to him. "I would die if you weren't…"

She clutched onto him, succumbed to the stinging behind her eyes, and cried for the first time in her life…

AN: I know, I know. It's like totally OOC for Sam to cry, but I thought that in this situation it would be appropriate. Anyways, hope you liked it, and please R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 3

Sam didn't have to stay long at the hospital. They just wanted to double check that there wasn't any internal bleeding happening and that she would be alright on her own. She insisted that she would be fine, but they still wanted to make sure she had a ride home. So, she called Spencer. There wasn't even anyone else that crossed her mind. She didn't want to go home, and she knew that Spencer would have no problem with it.

He met her up at her room, a wheelchair in hand. "Hey, Sam," he said, wheeling the chair toward her. "I got you a chair…"

She chuckled. "I don't really need one. And where did you get that?"

"Oh," he replied, gesturing over his shoulder. "Stole it from a nurse's station."

Sam shook her head and said, "Thanks, but I don't need."

He gave her a grin. "You'd make me feel a whole lot better."

She just laughed at him as she pulled her jacket on. "No, I'm fine."

He pouted at her. "Please, for me? Just to the car?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. But only because you're begging." She gave him a smirk. "It's kinda pathetic really…"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You know, I don't have to give you a ride. You can just rot here for the rest of your life."

She scoffed as she dropped into the chair. "Just get me to the car," she snapped.

Spencer wheeled her through the elevator and out of the hospital and helped her into the car, which he had just left at the entrance. "I'm fine, Spencer," she insisted as he helped her into the car.

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. You're independent, you don't need help. Just deal." Slamming her car door, he ran around to the other side and getting into the car.

They drove in silence for most of the way, an unspoken tension surrounding them. Sam couldn't look at Spencer without a blush coming over her face. What was happening with her? She was blushing by just _looking_ at Spencer? Ugh, life was the suck.

"You're just going to the apartment, right?" Spencer asked after about ten minutes of silence.

She nodded in response. "Yeah, it's better than being home…"

He sighed. "Um, Sam?"

She finally dragged her gaze to him, trying to ignore her thumping heart as she did so. "Yeah?"

He licked his bottom lip and chewed it slightly. Sam could tell that he was nervous about asking for whatever he was going to ask. "Uh, maybe…. Well, maybe, since you're going to come over a lot anyways… Maybe, for a while, you should just stay at the apartment…"

Her jaw went slack. He wanted her to stay at the apartment for a while? "Uh, wh- why?"

He sighed again, dragging a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "I…Well, I don't feel exactly, _okay_ about you… about you walking around by yourself…"

She shook her head. "I'll be fine, Spencer," she insisted. "The streets are safe. It was just a group of stupid guys…"

"But you never know when there is going to be another group of stupid guys," he responded, starting to sound a bit demanding. "It's not safe out there, Sam…"

She rolled her eyes and replied, "I can handle myself, Spence. I'll be okay."

The car rolled into its parking spot, and Spencer cut the engine. He grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed it lightly. He didn't look at her as he asked, in the same serious tone he used in her hospital room, "Please? Please, for me? I…" He swallowed, his hand tensed around hers. "I just want you to be safe."

Sam bit her bottom lip to stop it from shaking. "Okay," she replied, softly. "For you."

They got out of the car and headed up to the apartment. They were silent, the same tension that had been in the car earlier crackling between them now. Walking into the apartment, a peppy female voice called out, "Can we have spaghetti tacos tonight?"

Sam rolled her eyes. Great, Spencer's girlfriend, Whitney, was there, sitting on the couch. Not that there was anything wrong with her… But when it was just the three of them, Sam felt sort of alone.

"Sure thing, Sweetie," Spencer replied, going over to her and kissing her forehead. "Spaghetti tacos it is…" He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Sam alone with Whitney.

She smiled up at Sam. "Hey, Sam. How're you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better, thanks," Sam replied, looking down at her feet. It was always weird talking with Whitney because they weren't really friends, they just happened to know the same guy and liked to spend a lot of time with him.

Her eyes caught something shining against the floor, something that was never there until now. She leaned down and touched it. Dried blood. A small little puddle of dried blood. _Her_ dried blood to be exact.

"Sorry, I meant to clean that up," Spencer's voice said, knowing what she had found. "But between the rushing you to the hospital, worrying, and all those things, I didn't get a chance…"

She shook her head slowly. "No, it's fine…" There was something about seeing her blood on the floor that… that made this _real_. That made this not a dream, or a nightmare… "I was just surprised." She brought her gaze up, catching Spencer in it.

He looked worried, like he didn't want her seeing the blood. Like he was scared that it would hurt her. He should've known by now that it was hard to get under her skin. "I'm okay, Spence," she said, reading his mind.

He just nodded and said, "I know you are," before disappearing back into the kitchen.

AN: Whoa, intense. Anyways, please R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but I really would like to own some of Spencer's neon socks…

Chapter 4

Sam crashed in Carly's old room after dinner. She really didn't feel like being the third wheel, not when she was already feeling off... She hated being there with Whitney and Spencer. Well, not so much Spencer… But the two of them together drove her crazy. It bothered her that Whitney was so nice. It made hating her a whole lot harder. Sure, if Whitney was horrible, Sam wouldn't feel bad about hating her, but she was just so… _nice_. She always talked to Sam and asked her how her job was and how school was going, et cetera, et cetera.

Sam just felt so alone when Whitney was around. When it was just her and Spencer, she couldn't have been happier. Spencer just made her get in touch with her –god forbid that she actually admits that she has one –warm fuzzy side. He made her feel so…

Oh, god, what was she thinking? He was Spencer… that was all.

As Sam drifted off though, her thoughts of Spencer were drowned out by an oncoming nightmare. Her mind dragged her through the maze of memories, bringing her to the night that she was attacked. Everything was still fuzzy, blurry, and unrecognizable. The voice still rang in her head, "Tell anyone, and I _will_ kill you." The blade shining in the street light was now emblazoned on her brain. The pain that rushed over her as the blade pierced her skin now came flowing over her skin as though it just happened… She was in pain, in danger. She needed… she needed help! Help! Someone, help!

Sam shot up out of her slumber, sweat pouring down her face. What had just happened? Did those things really happen? She had no idea…

She laid back down, hugging a pillow to her chest. It was just a dream, right? But she couldn't fall asleep. The voice… that threatening voice had her worried. She wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep. She felt unsafe…

She stood up and crept down the stairs, heading into the kitchen. Food would help, she was sure it would help. But when she looked, nothing looked good to eat, not even left-over spaghetti tacos.

She ventured out into the family room, looking for an answer. And she found it. The light under Spencer's door was still on… Surely he would have an answer.

She tapped lightly on his door, and he called, "Come!" She pushed it open and entered his room. Spencer was sitting in bed, shirtless, sketching in a sketchbook. He looked up at her and furrowed his brow. He could tell that something was wrong. "Sam, are you okay?" he asked, putting down the sketchbook.

She nodded, tugging at her t-shirt. She couldn't help but blush at his bare chest. "I, uh…" God, why was she here again? "I kinda… I had a…"

Spencer raised an eyebrow at her. "Sam, did you have a bad dream?"

She blushed harder. When it was put like that, it sounded so childish. "Yeah, kinda…"

He smiled and held out a hand to her. Cautiously, she placed her hand in his, her heart beating against her ribcage, and he pulled her toward him. "Just curl up with me tonight," he said, using his free hand to pat the space on the bed next to him.

Sam did her best not to let her jaw drop. "Wh-what?" she stammered, pulling her hand out of his. "Sleep down here? With _you_?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Who else?"

She shrugged. It wasn't like she didn't want to sleep in the same bed as Spencer. No, I was that she really, _really_, wanted to sleep in the same bed as Spencer, and she was afraid that if she did, her heart wouldn't stop battling with her ribcage, and she wouldn't be able to sleep at all. "Well, I don't know, Spence," she said.

He sighed, grabbed her hand, and pulled Sam back toward him into a hug. "Come on, it'll be just like a sleepover!" he said excitedly, hoping that that would convince her to stay.

A sleepover with Spencer _did_ sound like fun. And she really didn't feel safe sleeping alone. It wasn't like she had anybody else to turn to. "Okay," she agreed, returning the hug.

"Awesome!" he let her go and stood up, revealing that he was, in fact, wearing sweatpants. Sam hadn't been so sure if he was or not. "What movie do you want to watch?"

Sam shrugged. She wasn't expecting to actually do something at this point, just to go to sleep, or at least try. But no, Spencer really actually did want to treat this like an actual sleepover. Spencer decided upon a fast-paced action movie, and they curled up in his bed with some Peppy Cola and popcorn.

They sat together, laughing at the wicked stunts in the movie and chowing down on the popcorn. Sam felt way totally comfortable with Spencer. He made her forget about the nightmare she had. He made the rest of the world around them disappear. It was just the two of them floating in nothing.

"You feeling better?" Spencer asked, tearing his eyes from the movie for a minute.

She smiled at him and nodded. "Yeah, I am. Thanks."

He grinned widely. "I call it the Spencer method. It cures almost everything."

Sam suppressed a laugh and replied, "I'm sure it does."

A silence fell over them. Not an uncomfortable silence, quite the opposite actually. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. By the end of the movie, Sam had fallen asleep, her hand resting on his bare chest.

Spencer smiled down at her and ran his fingers through her blonde tendrils. "Sweet dreams, Sam," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

AN: If I do say so myself, AWWWWWWWWWW! Anyways, please R&R! And thanks for the reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 5

Spencer woke the next morning and stared down at Sam in his arms, who hadn't moved from her position she drifted off in the night before. She looked so at peace, so innocent and sweet. Of course, he knew that once she woke up, she would still be the same pain in the ass, tough-as-nails girl that he expected her to be.

He couldn't help but notice though how much she had been showing her softer side lately. She'd poked a hole in the walls that she had built up around her and was letting Spencer in since the attack. Which sort of worried him a little bit. She never let her guard down, and yet, she was now. She was so different…

He looked down at her once again. She looked so beautiful… Oh god, what was wrong with him? She was his sister's –_little_ sister's –best friend. She was twelve years younger than him. And she could have any boy her age that she wanted, he was fairly sure about that. Well, and he had Whitney.

Spencer had insisted that Whitney didn't stay over last night. He thought that with Sam being over and in such a vulnerable state, Whitney being over would just make things a little bit worse for everybody. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think Sam liked Whitney all that much. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to make Sam comfortable at this point.

Whitney hadn't been okay with this plan though. She had always been kind of suspicious of Spencer's relationship with Sam, always saying that they were much too close to each other for their friendship to be only that- a friendship. She didn't understand that he liked hanging out with his sister's friends and that it was nothing but a friendship…

"Spency!" Whitney's chipper morning voice called as the front door opened. "Hello?"

Oh. Crap. It had totally slipped his mind that she was coming over this morning. And here he was, still lying in bed, with his little sister's best friend. This was going to be hard to explain.

Whitney pushed open his bedroom door, and her smile dropped almost immediately. She took in the sight of Sam lying slightly on Spencer, and her eyes narrowed at him. "Spencer…" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Spencer put a finger up to his lips to shush her. He didn't care how much trouble he was in, he didn't want her to wake Sam. He gently slid out from under the covers and Sam, making sure not to jostle her too much, and followed Whitney out into the family room.

That's when she turned on him. "What the _hell_ is going on here?" she growled at him. Her usually fair complexion was turning bright red, and her normally perfect blonde hair was falling into her face as her whole body practically shook with anger.

"Whitney," Spencer replied calmly, placing comforting hands on her shoulders, "I can totally explain this…"

"You can explain this?" Whitney practically yelled, her voice climbing toward a deafening-high pitch. An angry squeak escaped her lips as she stomped her high-heel onto the floor. "This is why you didn't want me over last night? So you could make a move on this creepy little _crush_ you have?"

He shot a glance back at his closed bedroom door. It was likely that she was going to wake up Sam if she kept yelling. "Can you quiet down? You're going to wake her up."

However, this comment only made her madder. "I don't _care_ if I wake her up!" she was using her full yelling voice now, which could intimidate most guys. "I want an explanation, Spencer!"

He pulled her farther away from his bedroom and said in hushed tones, "Look, she had a nightmare, and she needed some comfort so I let her sleep down here with me."

She cocked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. "You? _You_ invited her to sleep with you? In your bed?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," he insisted. He was starting to get annoyed, and it took a lot to annoy Spencer.

Whitney's manicured hands went to her hips. "It _better_ not be as bad as it sounds."

Spencer finally moved his hands from her shoulders and ran one through his shaggy brown hair. "She was scared. She needed comfort. She came to me, and I did what I thought would help her the most."

Her blue eyes rolled dramatically. "And what was that?" she snapped. "Sex?"

She was overreacting. Spencer could barely _stand_ this! She was being _crazy_! "No!" he said, becoming impatient. "I let her sleep –actual REM sleep –with me in my bed. We were fully dressed and everything. It was harmless. Just like when a kid goes to sleep with their parents when they have a nightmare. It's exactly the same thing."

One hand swept dramatically from her hip to gesture towards the door. "Then why doesn't she go home to have _her parents_ comfort her? Huh?"

There was no way Whitney could _ever_ understand about the relationship that Spencer shared with Sam. He didn't even think it was worth trying. But at the comment about her parents, he snapped, "You don't know what her parents are like. They don't even deserve to be related to her, okay?" He sighed. "As I've said before it was harmless."

Her arms folded over her chest, and she scoffed. "Oh really?"

He dragged a frustrated hand over his brow. "Yes, really," he growled, trying to keep his irritation out of his voice.

"Then it won't be a problem if I stay over for the weekend then, will it?" Her thin, painted lips curved up into a sly grin, and she tilted her head to the side. She had him and she knew it.

If he said no, the she would think there was something going on between him and Sam, which, of course, there wasn't. But if he said yes, she would make things awkward for Sam, and he _really_ didn't want to do that to her when she was in such a vulnerable state. It was a lose-lose situation. Either he disappointed Whitney –who would openly whine about the entire situation –or disappointed Sam who would take it all in stride. As much as he didn't want to and as much as he didn't like it, he knew what he had to do. And, yes, it would be a problem. "Yes, you can stay over. And, no, it won't be a problem," he muttered half-heartedly.

In that split second, all of the hostility she had shown disappeared. Her sly grin turned into a genuine excited smile. "Great!" she cheered, throwing her arms around him in a hug. As soon as she release him, she said, "So, I'm going to go get my stuff, and I'll be right back, 'kay?" And without even waiting for an answer, she was out the door.

Spencer let out an exasperated sigh and fell back onto the couch. This weekend was _not_ going to be fun.

AN: Happy New Years! Anyways, I know this chapter didn't have much Spam contact but the next chapter will. So please, R&R!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 6

Sam tiptoed out of Spencer's bedroom and sat down next to him. As much as she didn't like Spencer and Whitney together, she wanted him happy, and he wouldn't be happy if Whitney was mad at him because of her. "Sorry I got you in trouble," she said, brushing a strand of her curly blonde tresses behind her ear. "I didn't know she was coming over today…"

He shook his head but didn't look at her. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He was afraid that if he did, something would… something inside of him would snap again. That the feelings that filled him earlier would come back. The feelings that were just so… not right. He couldn't think of any other way to put it. "It's not a big deal…"

Sam didn't look at him either. Her feelings were holding her back too. She didn't know what had been coming over her these days, why she was feeling these things toward Spencer. She was just becoming so confused. Part of her wanted to tell him to not let Whitney come over for the weekend, she wanted to be alone with Spencer. Then there was the part of her that knew better. "I don't want to cause problems for you. I should just go home."

"No," he responded almost automatically. He did _not_ want her leaving. Hell, he'd be happier if he was alone with Sam rather than alone with Whitney. "No, don't go home. I… I don't trust you walking. I don't trust your parents to take care of you… I…" he sighed. His brain just kept making his mouth spit out stupid things. "I want you safe."

She finally looked at him. His face looked confused and pensive. He wasn't acting like the normal Spencer. And then it just slipped from her mouth. "Just admit that you want me here, Spencer."

There it was; the worst thing that could have possibly come from her mouth in their current situation just floating in the air around them. She pulled her gaze from his face. Why, why, WHY did she have to say _that_? God, now things were going to be awkward, and they would be acting weird around each to really function, and it really would be a lot better if she left and…

He took her hand in his and finally looked over at her. She raised up her head and gazed into his soft eyes. She wasn't sure want what he was going to say, and she wasn't sure whether or not it was something she wanted to hear. But her breath still caught in her throat as he inhaled to reply. "Pancakes?" he asked, the cheerfulness coming back into his voice.

"With chocolate chips," she replied. She knew that he was walking around the statement, and she was okay with that. She knew it was best to keep her thoughts in…

"Going!" he announced as he stood and bounded into the kitchen.

As Spencer started rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, Sam went back upstairs. She just needed to get out of that room. How could she _say_ that? It was so forward, so unlike her. Sure, she was tough, but when it came to her feelings for guys, she didn't come right out and say something. Especially when it came to her feelings for Spencer, which she was still confused about. God, what was wrong with her?

She went into Carly's bedroom and started digging through the closet. She needed to calm down and stealing some of her friend's forgotten clothing would make her do that. Besides, she had no clothes here and needed to get dressed anyways.

She decided on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt, but when she put them on, there was at least two inches between the top of the jeans and the bottom of the shirt. She hadn't realized how skinny she had become, but Carly's old clothes were hanging loosely around her body, the jeans barely clutching her hips. It showed the bottom of her bandages that were wrapped around her abdomen. It made her a little uncomfortable, but it was just Spencer, he wouldn't care. She kind of liked the idea of showing off her stomach a little for him.

She hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen, heading directly for the fridge, from which she pulled a jug of orange juice. Though, as she took a swig of it, she noticed that Spencer had stopped humming to himself. Once she swallowed, she asked, "What?"

He shook his head and stepped toward her. "It's nothing. Just…" he came slightly closer and poked at her bare midriff, "I can see your tummy."

A light red dusted her cheeks, and she tried folding her arms over her bare stomach. "Oh, yeah… Uh, the clothes are just a little big…"

He smiled and replied, "I like it."

She returned the smile and asked, "Pancakes ready?"

He nodded and handed her a plate with an insanely large stack of chocolate chip pancakes on it. Grabbing one of his own, they took their places on the couch, becoming engrossed in cartoons. They sat together, laughing and talking while they devoured their food. And by the time they finished, Spencer was inspired. While Sam took the plates out into the kitchen, Spencer ran back into his room, picking up his sketchbook.

He came back out and sat back down onto the couch, flipping open to a page and sketching. Her form and personality became one as she appeared on the page. Her curves and her perfect face just seemed to fall from the pencil tip. There was something about her that… that inspired him. He just didn't want to think about what might have really been behind that inspiration.

The door swung open, and Whitney came in, two suitcases and backpack in tow. "Should I put my stuff in your room?" she asked.

Spencer nodded, closing his sketchbook so Whitney couldn't see. "Yeah, just put it in there." He stood and took the suitcases, heading toward his room.

Sam sighed. They had been having fun until _she_ showed up. It just proved that this was going to be a really, really long weekend.

AN: I know, uneventful chapter. I was having trouble writing this one, so it didn't turn out that well, but whatever. Anyways, please R&R!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 7

Sam couldn't sleep that night. Not that she didn't try, but she just couldn't. Though when the sounds starting coming from Spencer's room, she just stopped trying to sleep.

The sounds started out quietly at first, Sam hadn't been able to place them at first. Then they got louder and faster, and Sam could tell what they were. Whitney was moaning, practically screaming. She was calling Spencer's name over and over and over. It was driving Sam crazy.

Not really because of the fact that there were people below her having sex. It was because it was _Spencer_ having sex. With Whitney. And _she_ was making those noises because Spencer was doing something that was making her make those noises.

Sam was beginning to think that Whitney was being intentionally loud. Sure, Sam didn't doubt that Spencer could please any girl way beyond fulfillment, but it seemed as though she was making the noise as a… a warning or, or some proof that he was doing things to her. Or just telling her to back off.

Sam just shook her head as the moaning reached a peak and then stopped completely. What a bitch…

She placed her head down on the pillow and tried to sleep. But by the time seven AM rolled around, she had not slept a wink. So, she wandered downstairs and sat down on the couch, turning the TV on to Saturday morning cartoons. She laid down and slowly and finally drifted to sleep.

Spencer woke up around eight and wandered out into the family. It was quiet, and he was sure that Sam was still sleeping. She had stayed up pretty late the night before, and with Whitney being as loud as she was, it was unlikely that Sam hadn't gotten to sleep until late.

He walked by the couch and stopped, finally noticing that the TV was on. His gaze tugged downward until his eyes met Sam's sleeping face. She was so at peace, and it made Spencer smile. He loved it so much when she was happy. If it was up to him, he would make sure that she was never sad or angry or hurt.

Moving silently, he grabbed his sketchbook from the side table and flipped to a blank page. He pulled up a chair, sat down, and started sketching. Sam was just inspiring him lately, he just felt like drawing her. He'd drawn at least three more since his first one the day before. There was something about her these days. Maybe it was because her tough outer shell had become slightly softer, or maybe it was because his feelings for her were changing very rapidly.

Now as he drew her, he didn't just put Sam on the page, he put all his feelings for her in the pencil marks. He wasn't exactly sure what those feelings were, but they just… appeared on the page. It was starting to look like one of the best drawings he'd ever done.

That's when Sam rolled, and her eyes drifted open. They searched and met his face and a smile graced her lips. "Hey there," she said, yawning. "What you doing?"

He returned her smile and closed the sketchbook. He didn't want to have to explain what exactly he was drawing. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "How you doing?"

She pulled herself up into a sitting position and shrugged. "I'm doing okay." Her face fell and her eyes became slightly glazed over, her look becoming thoughtful.

Spencer noticed this almost immediately. He didn't like her looking unhappy. "What you thinking?"

She chewed on her bottom lip and sighed. "I kinda need a favor…"

He hopped over the back of the couch and into the empty spot towards the end of Sam's feet. "Yeah, what's up?"

Her hand rested timidly on her stomach. "Uh, the doctor said that I should change my bandages every few days. But it's hard for me to bend and mess with it. So I was sorta wondering if you could help change them."

His eyes darted down to her stomach then back up to her face. "Uh, sure. That'll be okay."

She stood without a word and disappeared up the stairs. She wasn't gone long, and when she returned, she was holding gauze for the wound itself, gauze wrap to hold it in place, and medical tape. She sat back down next to him and handed the stuff over to him. "Sorry, if this is…" she hesitated, dragging her gaze from him, "…uncomfortable for you. I just need some help."

"Hey," he said, bringing up and hand and running it through her golden locks. "I will do anything for you, keep that in mind. 'Kay, Sam?"

She smiled and gave a soft nod. "Kay." The tender moment was enjoyed for just a moment before Sam snapped back to reality and what she had to say next. "So," she started pulling away from him just a bit, "my cut is in kinda a weird place. I sorta, uh, need to take my shirt off for you to put on the bandages."

Spencer could feel his heart start to race and his face turn red. Why was the thought of Sam shirtless making him feel…? He didn't even want to put into words what Sam was making him feel. It still seemed so… wrong for him to think those things about his baby sister's best friend…. "That's fine…" he managed to stammer out.

In one swift movement, Sam pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a white sports bra. Seeing this made Spencer's spirits sadden for a moment, but as his eyes practically devoured her body, those feelings that shouldn't have been there decided to come back again.

He scooted closer to her and started unwrapping the old gauze, winding it down until it was no longer covering Sam's skin. He couldn't stop himself from noticing how soft her milky skin looked, it was just looked so damn good.

The gauze covering her stab wound put up a bit more of a fight than the gauze wrap. There was medical tape holding it in place. It had formed sort of an adhesive bond with the wound and had to be pulled off slowly and carefully, making Sam cringe slightly. Spencer knew it must've really hurt because it took a lot of pain to get to her.

His eyes darted away from her stomach for a moment, looking up at her face. It wasn't looking down at what Spencer's hands were doing, it was staring back at his face, almost giving him permission to continue what he was doing. So he did. He placed the gauze over the abrasion and taped it into place. "Can you sit up more?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She did as he asked, and he placed his arms around her to get the gauze all around her abdomen. He winded it around her several times before finally severing it and sticking it into place. He grinned up at her and asked, "You okay?"

She gave another light nod and returned his smile. Her brain wouldn't let her do more than that. Just being that close to Spencer, feeling his touch on her skin, had made her words leave her completely.

But they didn't get to stay in this moment for long. A sharp "ahem" followed by a snippy "Am I interrupting?" had totally ruined the moment.

AN: How will Whitney react? Only I know! But I'm sure you guys can pretty much guess (my writing is sort of predictable). Anyways, please R&R!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 8

Spencer practically jumped out of his skin, he stood so fast. He was stuck in a compromising position, and he knew it. "Whitney, this isn't what it looks like," he insisted.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, it looks like you're helping Sam change her bandages," she replied casually.

He exchanged a quick confused glance with Sam before replying, "Yeah. That's exactly what it is."

That's when Whitney did something that Sam had never expected: she smiled. She was _smiling_? She had just caught her boyfriend with his hands all over a half-naked girl –sure, it was a strictly medical thing, but still –and she was smiling? "That's okay," she said. "She needed her bandages changed. She strolled over to Spencer, kissed the top of his head, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Sam and Spencer sat together, a little confused. "That was strange," he said calmly.

She nodded. "And you're the sultan of strange…"

A thin silence came between them before Spencer asked, "Why where you sleeping on the couch?"

"Oh," she replied. Her lack of sleep had slipped her mind, but now that it was brought back to her attention, it was starting to drag her down. "I-" a yawn interrupted her, "couldn't sleep," she continued through the end of it, "so I came down to watch TV."

"And you fell asleep," Spencer finished for her.

"Well, yeah," she replied through another yawn. She reached over, grabbed her shirt, and pulled it over her head. It hadn't even occurred to her until then that she still wasn't wearing a shirt. Standing sluggishly, she said, "I'm going to get more sleep."

Spencer stood quickly. "Okay. You sure?"

Her head slumped to the side, and she shot him a glare that nearly screamed, "Do I look like I'm awake?" He let out a slight chuckle and answered his own question with, "I guess you are. Night then."

Once Sam had disappeared upstairs and fallen asleep, the day went slowly for Spencer. Hanging out with Whitney, watching movies, and talking about their ideas for new art pieces didn't hold the same allure that it used to. With Sam so close, it was hard to stay focused on Whitney. Sam was all her could think about.

When Whitney decided to go out to get some things for the "fantabulous meal" that she was going to make for the three of them, Spencer decided to sit down with his sketchbook and draw. The image of Sam, sitting there on the couch, shirtless, looking sort of uncomfortable, which was a rarity, was still stuck in his head. Her stitches stuck out of her side. It was all so fresh in his mind. And when he was done with that one, he started another. Then another and another. He just kept drawing her. Until Whitney came home.

"Hey, Baby," she said, entering the apartment with arms full of groceries. She dropped the bags off in the kitchen and came back out into the family. "So, I was in the lobby, and I realized that I forgot flour. Do you think that you could go run and get it for me?" She gave him a sweet puppy dog pout.

He just smiled, closed his sketchbook –he certainly didn't want her to see what he was drawing –stood and kissed the top of her head. Just 'cause he didn't feel as strongly for her as he did for Sam didn't mean that he couldn't pretend, right? "Of course," he said. He walked by her, grabbed his keys, and called, "Be right back."

And he was. He rushed through everything. He drove like a maniac and he was much pushier and more abrasive than usual in the store. He didn't want to leave Whitney in the apartment alone. Spencer wasn't exactly sure about her culinary skills, and if Sam came downstairs, he was certain one (most likely Whitney) would be dead when he returned.

But when he got home, there was no kitchen fire, no arguing, no hair pulling or bloodshed. There was just Whitney, sitting on the couch, Spencer's sketchbook lying open on her lap. She didn't look at him; she kept her eyes glued to one of his sketches of Sam. "How long, Spencer?" she asked quietly.

He set the flour down on the counter and stepped forward. He didn't understand. Why wasn't she yelling or freaking out? And how long _what_? "What do you mean?" he asked in an unsure voice.

She still refused to look up at him as she replied, "How long have you been in love with Sam?"

AN: DUN DUN DUN! OH NOES! What will happen next? But anyways, please R&R and thanks to everyone for the reviews! Oh, by the way, we're in the middle of a move right now, so it may take me a little while to get the next chapter up.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 9

This wasn't happening. Spencer couldn't even _believe_ that this was happening. She had found the sketchbook and accusing him of being in love with another girl. He didn't get it. Why didn't she think that he was just sleeping with Sam? It would've been a whole lot easier than this. "How could I be in love with Sam?" he asked, stepping closer to her. "I'm dating you."

She shook her head and tucked a strand of thin blonde hair behind her ear, a sigh emitting from her lips. "I'm not so sure, Spencer." She flipped back a few pages to the sketch of Sam while she was sleeping. "If you had feelings for me even remotely close to the feelings you have for her, I'd stay, but…" Her fingers ran down the edge of the page as she admired the drawing. "It's obvious you don't."

"That's not true," he insisted. He knelt down in front of her. "How do you know that I'm not just sleeping with her?" he asked. "Because that would be a whole lot better than this."

She tore her sparkling blue eyes away from the drawing and smiled down at him. "I'm an artist, Spencer," she said. "I can tell when an artist puts their heart into a piece of work. And these…" She gestured to the sleeping Sam sketch. "Every single one has a huge chunk of your heart in it. I just can't stay in a relationship with a man who's in love with someone else." Setting the sketchbook aside, Whitney stood up, Spencer following, and she laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. You're a sweetheart. It just can't work." She kissed his forehead and walked by him, picking up her bags that Spencer was just now noticing were there.

"Whitney…" he said, slight desperation in his voice. "We can work this out…"

She looked over her shoulder at him, a thin smile on her lips. "Just do me a favor," she requested.

"Sure," he replied. He didn't care what she wanted him to do, he would do it.

"Don't wait too long to tell her how you feel," she said. "It will be best for the both of you." And in an instant, she was gone.

Spencer had no idea what had just happened. He was just dumped by a beautiful woman, a beautiful _artistic_ woman, because he was supposedly in love with another girl. And she wanted him to pursue her. This was too weird for words.

Right on cue, Sam came down the stairs to the landing. She was moving slower than normal, and her hand clutched her side. As soon as Spencer saw her, he knew something was wrong. "Sam," he said quickly. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but the pain on her face gave her away. "I'm fine," she said, still grasping her side. "It just hurts a little is all."

"A little?" he repeated coming up the stairs to meet her. "Sam, you're in pain."

She sighed, though she knew he was right. "It just hurts to walk right now, okay?"

He smiled. "Okay then." In one swift (yet careful) movement, he swept her up in his arms. He stared down at her surprised face and said, "Where to, M'lady?"

Her blue eyes glittered as she let out a small giggle. "Uh, the couch I guess."

Spencer stepped down the stairs, carefully, but managed to stay in his noble character. He laid her down gently on the couch and ran a hand over her hair. "Anything you want?" he asked softly.

"Where's Whitney?" she asked, searching his eyes for the answer.

He sighed but didn't dare break his gaze with her. "She's gone, she dumped me."

"Sorry," Sam replied. She was trying to look sincere as she said, but Spencer knew her better than that.

"You don't have to pretend to be sorry," he said, kneeling down next to her. "I know you're not at all sorry."

A smile that she been trying to hold back managed to break through. "She was a controlling bitch, Spencer. I'm glad she's gone."

He chuckled. God, what was wrong with him? His girlfriend just left him, and he was _laughing_? "It's all good," he said.

She patted his head playfully before asking, "Why'd she leave?"

He shrugged while hiding his panic. He had not thought of what he was going to tell her. He _certainly_ couldn't tell her the real reason. But what was he going to tell her? "Oh," he replied. "Well…" What could he say? "She… she was just a boatload of crazy."

She laughed a full whole-hearted laugh. "That is true. But then again so are you."

He shook his head. "No, I mean _crazy_," he lied. "Like Miss Ackerman crazy."

Sam laughed again. Oh, he loved hearing her laugh. It was so sweet sounding. _No…_ he scolded himself. _This is Sam… She's twelve years younger than you._ But no matter how much wanted that to discourage his feelings, they wouldn't disappear.

"Want food?" he asked quickly, standing up. "I need food."

She nodded. "Sure, food is good."

And away he went into the kitchen. That's when Sam noticed a sketchbook on the floor at her feet. It was closed and looked pretty worn down. She had no idea that Spencer drew as well as sculpted. Or maybe Whitney left it behind…

"Hey, Sam," Spencer called as he came back into the family room. "Do you want chocolate on your- OH MY GOD!" he shouted as he noticed his sketchbook in her hands.

She smiled up at him. "What's this, Spence?"

AN: WEEEE! Sorry this took me so long, but we were in the midst of a move, and we had no internet, and I was so busy packing and unpacking that I didn't have much time to write except at school (which you can't really do in college). So, anyways, please R&R!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 10

Spencer did his best not to panic. Sam was holding the sketchbook of the drawings of her. She was just inches away from unveiling his secret. If she saw those, she would know what he was hiding, that he had feelings for her. There was no point in denying it, he decided, but that didn't mean that Sam should know.

"I didn't know that you drew too," she said, smiling up at him. "Is it okay if I look at them?"

He held back a sigh of relief. He could just say no, he was saved. But he started wondering if he wanted to be saved in this situation. Maybe it was better if she found out and then it would be up to her. It would be better that way. That way she could just tell him straight out that there was no chance that they could be together… That was best, right?

_No_, he told himself. _No, that's not best. I want to hold onto hope for as long as I can…_

"Spencer?" Sam said, gaining his attention. "You haven't said anything for like two minutes. You okay?"

He nodded spastically. It was time to say something, _anything_. "I'm fine," he replied. "I just feel self conscious about my drawings."

"Oh," she said, placing the sketchbook down on the coffee table in front of her, "okay." She didn't look up at him for a few seconds. She didn't know exactly what to say. Then, suddenly, she brought her bright blue eyes up to his brown ones, put on a comforting smile, and asked, "What movie do you want to watch?"

The night went too quickly for Sam's taste. She was having such a great time with Spencer, watching movies and just hanging out and talking that she didn't want the night to ever end. But by midnight, they decided that they should call it a night.

But once Sam fell asleep, her mind wouldn't rest. She was walking down a dark, foggy alleyway, alone. She had no idea where she was. It was getting cold, and she realized that she was only wearing a tank top and jeans. Not able to keep herself warm, she wrapped her arms around her and continued down the alley. All of the sudden, a hand reached out and grabbed her, pressing her against the brick wall. She couldn't see his face. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. "Hold her still!" she could hear, but she wasn't really sure that the figure holding her back was the one that said it. "I'll make you wish I killed you," the voice said. It seemed to reverberate around her, not coming from a single voice. "Tell anyone what you saw, and I _will_ kill you." Then she could see something through the fog, something shiny. The blade of a butterfly knife, glistening in the moonlight. And she could still see it as a disembodied hand stabbed it into her. Then again and again. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. She wanted somebody there. She needed somebody.

And with one final scream, she woke up, her scream echoing around her. Sweat made her whole body feel tacky. She took several deep breaths before tossing off her blankets and running out of her room.

This time she didn't even hesitate, she knew where she wanted to go, what she needed to do. She raced down the stairs and burst into Spencer's room, jumping into his bed next to him.

"Cancer causing thunder muffins!" Spencer yelled as he woke up.

Sam stared down at him, an eyebrow cocked. "Cancer causing _what_?" she asked.

He rubbed his eyes like a sleepy child and muttered, "No cancer, just muffins. Regular muffins."

She shook her head. "Whatever. Can I sleep down here with you? I couldn't sleep."

He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. "Of course. You wanna have another sleepover?"

She nodded as her lips turned up into a smile. Smiling had been coming more easily to her since Spencer had broken up with Whitney. Sure, she was sad that Whitney just dumped him, but she was glad that there was one less obstacle between the two of them. Not that it was possible anyways… "Of course. You wanna watch Kung Fu?"

"Kung Fu is good," he replied, throwing off his blankets. "You want soda and popcorn?"

"Always," she said, pulling the blankets around her as he stood up.

"Kay, kay," he said, before disappearing into the family room.

Spencer began rifling through the fridge, pulling out two cans of Peppy Cola. As he put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and started cooking it, he began thinking about Sam and the fact that she was going to be sleeping in the same bed as him. He could just imagine wrapping his arms around her and holding her against his body, their breathing and body rhythms syncing up. He wanted so badly for all that to be the reality of their relationship.

But it wasn't, no matter how much he wished for it to be. Maybe he should just tell her the truth, that he was madly in love with her. That she was all that he could think about, and he didn't want to spend his life with anybody else but her. He wanted to be with her forever. Hell, he wanted to be with her now. He just…

"This one okay?" Sam asked, startling him.

Spencer yelped, dropping the two cans of soda. The cans hit the floor and burst on contact, spinning around and spraying soda over the kitchen floor. He turned to face her and saw her holding out a movie toward him. "That one's good," he said, gesturing to the DVD in her hand. He gestured back to the kitchen floor. "I'll get this, you go start it up."

She smiled up at him. "Okay," she agreed, before heading back into the bedroom. She put the DVD in and went back to lay down. As she leaned against the pillow, she could feel something digging into her back. She leaned forward and pulled out the sketchbook, which Spencer had tucked behind there for safe keeping.

Holding the book of loose, creased, and tattered doodles, she thought about opening it, but didn't want to hurt Spence. He seemed truly opposed to her looking at his drawings. But she couldn't help herself.

She flipped open to the first page and there was a cute little doodle of a pig. She smiled at his child-like heart. Turning the page, she revealed a very detailed drawing of a piece of cake. He was just too weird, she decided. The next few pages were rough, unfinished sketches of Whitney. She cringed, but there was something about these sketches. They were unfinished, they were sloppy, and they lacked… something that was usually hidden in Spencer's artwork.

Turning one more page, she revealed the delicate form of a girl sleeping on a sofa… there was something familiar. Something… hmm. She took a better look at the drawing. His heart was practically carved into each pencil mark. She wondered what girl made him draw like this. What girl could make him feel this way…

She flipped the page and the answer came to her. The same girl was there, looking vulnerable and in pain. She was only wearing a white sports bra and sticking out of her left side were stitches. That's when she knew. This girl that made Spencer draw like this was... her…

Spencer entered the room, two new sodas and a bowl of popcorn in hand. Sam looked up almost dreamily and said, "Why did you draw me, Spencer?"

His eyes met hers, and once he realized what she was looking at, the popcorn and sodas fell from his hand, meeting the floor.

AN: Hee hee hee. Sorry, I was having a bit of writers block. I blame it on the loss of my writer's talisman, which is supposed to protect writers from exactly that. I'm not usually superstitious, but since I lost this necklace last Wednesday, nothing seems to come out the way I want it to. I would not have been able to get this chapter up if it wasn't for my boyfriend, Ian, who was sitting here helping me as I wrote this. He's very Spencer-esque, so he's been coaching me on what Spencer would say in each situation. So, anyways, please R&R!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 11

This was it. It was over. In her hands, Sam held the archive of Spencer's feelings for her. She had seen them. She must've known that he was in love with her. She must've known that things would never be the same.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said quickly, ignoring the spill on the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and released it. "There. I apologized for every drawing of you that I've done."

Her eyes widened at him. "You drew me-" she paused as she counted in her head, "one, two… twelve times?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I know that you probably don't want me drawing you. I just…"

She stood up and stared up into his face, hope coming over her. What was he saying? Was he trying to tell her something? "You just what?" she asked, staring into his brown eyes.

He had to fight the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her. They were standing so close, bodies practically bumping into each other. Her lips were just there, begging to be kissed by his. But, he held back. "This is your fault really," he decided to say.

She took a step back and fell backwards onto the bed. "How is this my fault?" she asked as she propped herself up on her elbows.

He shrugged. "Well…" he sighed. "You've inspired me. I don't see how that's _my_ fault."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, it's my fault that _you_ can't help staring at me."

He made a scrunchy face and snapped, "Okay, it's nobody's fault." He tried to take a step back but tripped on the empty bowl the popcorn had been in. He fell forward, landing on top of Sam and pinning her to the bed. "And who's fault was this one?" he asked, befuddled.

She laughed. "That would be yours."

"Mine?" he replied, furrowing his brow. "You were the one that startled me."

Her blue eyes narrowed at me. "Oh, yeah, it's _my_ fault that you can't seem to keep a grip on anything." She shoved him back far enough so she could push him sideways and pin him to the bed, straddling him. "I'm not budging on this one, Shay."

He smiled. "You're cute when you're winning an argument."

She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm winning, am I?"

"Now you're just arguing to argue," he replied.

As their laughter died out, it slowly occurred to the both of them what position they were in. Sam sat on top of Spencer, her legs on either side of his body, smiling down at him. "I think I won."

"I think I need to make more popcorn," he said, looking down at the floor.

She nodded. "Try not to drop it this time."

Neither one made a move. "Uh, Sam?" Spencer said.

She smiled down at him. "Yeah?"

He looked slightly sheepish as he said, "Popcorn's kind of hard to get underneath you."

Her smile disappeared. "Oh, right." She swung her leg over and laid down next to Spencer, lying on her back and staring at him. "Um, Spence? Is that a flashlight in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"Oh," he replied, reaching into his pocket. "It's just a flashlight." And sure enough, in his hand, he held a small blue flashlight. "I liked to keep it on hand in case of emergency."

"Oh," she replied dumbly. Her cheeks were starting to heat up from her accusation. How could she say that? Of _course_ he wouldn't be… up because she was straddling him.

"I'm going to get the popcorn now," he said in an unsure voice, standing up and trying to break the tension. "Then we can watch the movie, okay?"

She nodded stiffly, her face still burning. "Okay."

Spencer went out to the kitchen and started making another bag of popcorn. He was cursing his body for reacting to Sam like that. Thank god he kept that flashlight with him, otherwise he didn't know what he would've said. And it wasn't as if sweat pants were constricting in the least…

He just didn't understand why his body reacted so easily. She had just straddled him playfully and… things happened. That was so unlike him. He and Sasha Striker had gone out once after he beat her at Pak-Rat. After dinner, she practically threw herself at him. Had his body reacted _then_? NO, of course not. That would've made life too simple. It had to wait until the most inopportune moment of his life to do anything.

He must've spent ten or twenty minutes in the kitchen, trying to calm himself down before going back into his bedroom, two new sodas and a new bowl of popcorn in hand. But when he got there, Sam had fallen asleep.

He smiled. There was no way he could wake her up. He placed the snacks on his bedside table and hit the lights, climbing into bed next to her. He draped his arm over her and pulled her close to him. He had never felt so at peace in his life as he did at that very moment. He wanted to lay here with her forever.

"Spencer," Sam said in a sleepy tone, "Do those drawings mean that you love me?"

He could feel his heart rate speed up, but he kept calm. She had figured it out… When Sam questioned him again, he just pretended to be asleep. He was not ready to tell her yet…

AN: I actually got this chapter up quickly. This I attribute to my boyfriend's help with Spencer _and_ to the fact that: I FOUND MY TALISMAN! WOOOOO! Anyways, please R&R!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 12

_Spencer was curled up with Whitney on his bed, enjoying one of his favorite stupid kung fu movies. Whitney, on the other hand, was not. "This movie is so stupid," she grumbled. "Can't we do something else?"_

_He rolled his eyes. She liked getting her way and wouldn't shut up until she got it. "What do you want to do instead?" he asked her, slight disappointment in his voice. He _loved_ this movie._

_A smug grin came across her face as she turned toward him. "What do you think I want to do?" she replied, climbing onto his lap and straddling him._

_He smiled and replied, "Oh, I know what you want…" His lips took hers and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her body against his even more._

_There was a loud bang from the main room and a weak voice called out, "Spence!"_

_He pushed Whitney back slightly so her lips disengaged his. "It's Sam," he told her. He looked her up and down, and his libido took over his brain. "I'll get rid of her," he added quickly and moved her off of him._

_Spencer went out into the family room. Sam was standing there, barely standing there he should say. She could hardly stay upright. "Sam?" he asked. "What's wrong?"_

_Her body wobbled and she gasped, "I… need… help…" Her legs fell from under her and she landed in a pile on the floor._

"_Sam!" Spencer shouted, running towards her. He crouched down next to her, feeling her head. She was burning up. He felt her pulse. It was racing. That's when he saw it: blood seeping out of her side. _

_He panicked. She… she was going to die! "Whitney!" he shouted. "Get me a towel!"_

_Whitney came out of his bedroom, looking annoyed and confused. "What?" she snapped._

"_Towel, now!" he demanded, pressing his hand against the bleed._

_She disappeared into his bedroom and came back out, a towel in hand this time. She tossed it to him and stood back, her arms crossed over her chest. "Is she alright?" she asked, disinterested._

"_Does she look alright?" he growled as he pressed the towel to Sam's wound. "Call 911."_

"_Where's the phone?" she replied, looking around the apartment._

"_Talk into the chipmunk!" he replied, referring to the chipmunk phone he had made two years ago._

"_What?" she snapped._

_Spencer sighed, putting as much pressure as he could on her wound. He was not in the mood to deal with this. "Just use your cell, Whitney!"_

_She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Hell-ooo! Minutes!"_

"_Damn it, Whitney," he grumbled. "Forget 911." He scooped Sam up in his arms and rushed out the door. He was doing his best to stay calm. She was… she was bleeding so much. He wasn't sure if… if she was even going to make it. He skipped the elevator and bolted straight down the stairs._

_It was a mad rush to the hospital. He must've broken at least ten laws. But he didn't care how much trouble he got into, he wanted to make sure that she would be safe._

"_Eighteen year-old female, puncture wound to the lower left quadrant," the nurse called as she wheeled the gurney down the hall. She looked to Spencer. "When did this happen?"_

_Spencer was speechless. He had no idea when this had happened. "Uh, I don't know…"_

_The nurse cocked her eyebrow. "Are you family?"_

_He shook his head. "No, just a friend." It was hard for him to call himself just a friend because he considered her part of the family…_

"_You need to stay out here," the nurse told him before she disappeared with the gurney behind the doors, leaving him standing there, alone._

_It was hours before Spencer knew anything. He had to field several calls from Whitney. She was getting annoyed that he was gone so long._

"_Is anyone here for Samantha Puckett?" a man in a pair of scrubs asked as he entered the waiting room._

_Spencer stood immediately. "That's me," he said, coming toward the man. "Is Sam okay?"_

_The man held out a hand to him. "Mr. Puckett," he started to say._

"_Shay," Spencer interrupted. "I'm Spencer Shay. I'm a friend."_

_The man looked taken aback but still offered his hand. "Well, Mr. Shay, I'm Dr. Wilson. I'm Ms. Puckett's surgeon."_

_Spencer shook the doctor's hand energetically. "Is Sam alright?" he asked again._

_He gave a small smile and a nod. "She's just fine. It was a fairly clean puncture, there were no complications in closing her back up. But I would say by the look of the wound, she was attacked."_

_His heart gave a lurch. This was no accident? She had been attacked? This… no, this wasn't happening… Who would do such a thing to her?_

"_Now," the doctor continued on, shaking Spencer from his thoughts, "it is a requirement by law that whenever a gunshot wound or a stab wound comes into the E.R., we have to report it to the police." He could see Spencer's worried face. "They will request to talk to you. But, Mr. Shay, if you are as innocent as you're acting, then you should have no problems."_

"_Right," he replied, barely loud enough for the other man to hear. Then he asked quickly, "When can I see Sam?"_

_The doctor smiled. "She's in recovery at the moment. We'll be moving her in about an hour, and then you can go see her." He patted Spencer's shoulder. He could obviously tell that Spencer was uneasy. "Go eat something, Son. You look exhausted." He gave him one more shoulder pat before disappearing back behind the doors._

_Spencer wandered aimlessly into the cafeteria. Food didn't hold any allure to him at the moment… Maybe he was just too worried about Sam to eat anything._

_He decided to call Whitney, to let her know exactly what was going on. "Hey, Babe," he replied when she answered. "She's out of surgery. Yeah, she's fine. No, she's in recovery now, I won't be able to see her for a while… I can't leave yet. No, I can't. The surgeon said something about it being a stab wound. Yeah, stabbed. Well, he said that they have to tell the police and they will want to talk to me. No, I can't leave. I don't know when I'll be able to come back. No. Hey, could you bring those containers of gravy from the fridge down here. What do you mean why? Hospital gravy sucks… Okay, see you later. Bye." Spencer said hurriedly as a uniformed man approached him._

"_Spencer Shay?" the man asked._

"_Yes," he replied, his palms starting to sweat. He couldn't control it, but he didn't know why. He had nothing to do with Sam's attack, she just happened to come to him for help. He would be fine._

"_I'm Officer Jackson from the SPD," he replied. "Would you like to sit?"_

_They took a seat at the nearest table and Spencer asked, "This is about Sam, right?"_

_Officer Jackson nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I just need to ask you some questions."_

"_Sure," Spencer said. "Fire away."_

_The officer took a small notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. "Where were you at the time of the attack?" he asked, taking a pen from his other pocket._

"_I was in my apartment in Bushwell Plaza with my girlfriend," he explained, twiddling his thumbs._

_Jotting that down, he asked, "Then how did you happen to come across Ms. Puckett?"_

_Spencer bit his lip. He knew that this was going to be hard for the officer to believe. "She came to the apartment. She… she just came into the apartment and collapsed."_

_He scribbled that down before cocking an eyebrow at Spencer. "Why did she go to your place instead of somewhere else? Like her parents?"_

_He shrugged. "She doesn't have the greatest relationship with her parents. She's my little sister's best friend and so I've always let her come over when she needed to get away. She… she was probably on the way to my place..."_

_More writing. "Is there anyone who can confirm your whereabouts at the time of the attack?"_

_Spencer nodded. "My girlfriend, Whitney Baker. She should be on her way here if you need to talk to her."_

_He took note of that then said, "That won't be necessary, Mr. Shay." Holding out a hand, he added, "Thank you for your help."_

_He pumped the officer's hand in return. "You're welcome, anything to help."_

_Officer Jackson rose to his feet and left the room, leaving Spencer in peace. However, as soon as the officer left, Whitney showed up. "Why in the _hell_ did you make me come all the way down here to bring you gravy?" she snapped as she set down the containers on the table._

"_Nice to see you too, Baby," he shot back. "Thanks for bringing those." He forced a smile up at her._

"_Why did you-" she started to say again, annoyed but cut off mid thought._

"_She loves gravy," he interrupted simply. "Thought she might like to have some when she gets up. And like I said, hospital gravy sucks." He sighed. This was why he didn't want her there, she didn't understand anything about his friendship with Sam. "Thanks. I'm going to go see if I can see her now." He stood up, kissed her forehead and said, "You should go home. It may be a while."_

"_Gladly," she snapped, marching away._

_Spencer let out an exasperated sigh. He wandered out of the cafeteria and up to the nurses' station. He asked one stout nurse hopefully, "Has Samantha Puckett been moved from recovery yet?"_

_The nurse checked the computer before replying, "Yes, she's in room 204B."_

"_Thank you," Spencer called back as he took off down the hallway. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see that she was okay…_

_The room was quiet. There were two beds, one empty, one holding the sleeping form of Sam. She looked weak, she didn't look like herself. Spencer walked slowly across the room to her bed, set the gravy on the nightstand, and leaned over her. She was so… he didn't even know how to describe her. She just looked… different._

_He pressed his lips softly against her forehead. It was slightly warm but not very. "Please, Sam," he whispered as he pulled his lips away, "hold on."_

_The night was difficult. Spencer couldn't sleep, but at the same time, he could barely stay awake. He ran down to the gift shop and bought a few cards for her, mostly just so he had something to do._

_He fell asleep around two in the morning, and when he woke up, Sam was still asleep. It was now that his stomach started growling. He needed food._

_His stomach guided him to the cafeteria, helped him to choose food, and lead him back to the room. But he got a surprise when he came back: Sam was awake. She was trying to sit up, but Spencer insisted that she didn't._

_His joy couldn't be measured. He was so happy that she was awake. Sitting and talking to her made him feel so much better. He explained what had happened, what he was thinking, and eventually, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tighter than ever before as she cried._

Spencer pulled himself out of his thoughts and stared at the sleeping girl in his arms. She had finally fallen asleep, snoring lightly, so he didn't have to pretend to be asleep anymore. He knew that she was out… "Yes, Sam," he whispered to her. "Those drawings do mean that I love you."

AN: Woot! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it is definitely the longest chapter by far. I worked very, very hard on it. This chapter was actually my boyfriend's idea, just so we could get more of an idea about Spencer's side of the story. So, anyways, please R&R!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly nor do I own the songs "Run Runaway" or "Fast as I Can" by the awesome band Great Big Sea.

Chapter 13

It was time for Sam to go back to work. Her boss had called her the night before, telling her that she had to come back or he'd find a replacement. She really didn't want to go, she had been having fun with Spencer. But then again, she needed that job, and she needed money.

She left before Spencer even woke up. She left him a note explaining her whereabouts. She just knew that if she had waited until he got up to leave, then he would stop her. He was still trying to take really good care of her. He wanted her to be safe.

Her boss was more than happy to see her back at work. "Great to have you back, Sam," he said as soon as she walked through the doors of Barnes and Noble. "I'd hate to have to replace you. You're the only one I can trust not to steal," he added quickly before disappearing into the back.

The day was long and hard for both Sam and Spencer. He was surprised to wake up and find that Sam was not sleeping soundly next to him. He was surprised to find that she wasn't in the apartment at all. He could only find a note stuck to the door that said, "Had work. Time to go back. Be back later. Sam."

He didn't know what to do with himself. He couldn't even remember what he used to do during the day before Sam was around. The sketchbook was half way full by the end of the day.

Sam, on the other hand, had something else to worry about. Towards the end of her shift, the one person she didn't really want to see showed up. "Oh hey, Sam," Whitney said. Her long blonde hair had been pulled up into a high ponytail, and she wore a short black tank dress that hugged her curves perfectly. "You're back to work already?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I need money… Where are you going looking like that?"

Whitney looked confused at first but then took a look down at herself. "Oh, right," she said, pulling her purse strap up onto her shoulder. "It's my brother's birthday, I'm just here getting his birthday present. He tends to go all out for the party. This year he's invited, like, fifty people to a bar. So, I figured I might meet someone there, you know, since I'm not involved with anyone."

Sam frowned. "Oh, yeah. Sorry about you and Spencer…"

Whitney chuckled. "You don't have to pretend. I know how you feel about him."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't know what you-" She sighed. "How did you know?"

"I think I always sort of knew how you felt about him," she replied. "And how he felt about you."

Sam could feel her heart stop in that instant. _How he felt about you? _"WHAT?" she practically yelled.

Whitney smiled. "Like I told him: don't wait too long. Well, I should really be going. Nice seeing you, Sam," she said, walking away triumphantly.

It was impossible for Sam to focus for the rest of the day. What did Whitney mean by how he felt about her? Her head was spinning around and the rest of the day seemed to fly by in a blur.

The walk back to Bushwell was long and tiring. She just wanted to get back to the apartment, she wanted to get back to Spencer.

When she opened the apartment door, loud rock/folkish music was blasting through the surround sound system. It was some kind of bizarre accordion and flute, there may have been some harmonica in there too. Spencer danced haphazardly around the family room and sang along with the strange lyrics. "I like black in white, dream in black in white, you like black in white, run runaway!" he belted out, jumping up and down. "See chameleon, lying in the sun! All thanks to everyone, run runaway!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "What is this?" she shouted at him over the music.

"Great Big Sea!" Spencer shouted still dancing wildly, if anyone could call what he was doing dancing. "I found them in a Canadian record store when I was up there!"

Sam laughed again. She had to admit, this music was fun and happy and sort of infectious. So, she joined Spencer in the crazy dancing, jumping around and flailing their arms in floppy passion. And after the third time of hearing the chorus, she joined in too. "See chameleon, lying there in the sun! All thanks to everyone, run runaway!"

This was heaven for Sam. She was having so much fun with Spencer that she didn't want it to ever end.

But soon, the band stopped saying actual words and the music faded. The two laughed and collapsed onto the couch in exhaustion. Sam giggled once more and said, "These guys are pretty good. Strange but good."

"Would you expect anything else from me?" he asked, smiling over at her.

The corners of her lips turned up into a genuinely sweet smile. "No," she answered, just as the next song started up. This song was a ballad, soft and sweet, starting out with flute and guitar.

They sat there in silence for a moment as they listened to the music. Then when the words kicked in, Spencer felt the need to sing along. "From the first hello you gave to me, I've done nothing else but smile," he sang softly, just loud enough for Sam to hear.

She could feel her heart speed up, but she had to remind herself that it wasn't as though this was really how Spencer felt. "And I know you're in a hurry," he continued, looking over at her and into her big brown eyes, "but it's going to take a while. So forgive me if we go slow, but there's something I think you should know."

Her breath caught in her chest. What? Had he planned this? Was this-? She had to stop herself. This was Spencer, he didn't have feelings for her, right? But then again there was what Whitney said…

"I'm going fast as I can," he sang, taking her hand in his, the words beginning to stick to his throat. "Please don't make me rush, this feeling's coming on way too fast. I'll tell you all of the things that you'll never forget…" His hand surrounded hers and squeezed it. "But I'm not ready to say 'I love you' yet. I'm not ready to say 'I love you' yet."

Sam felt like she couldn't breathe, and she could feel a stinging sensation behind her eyes as tears were forming. Not tears of sadness but of happiness. "Is that true, Spencer?" she asked, her voice wavering.

But Spencer said nothing in return. He just took her face in his hands and brought her lips to his in a soft, sweet, and wanted kiss. His feelings were all escaping their prison in his head through that kiss. He had wanted this for months, maybe years.

She couldn't hold her tears back. They came rolling down her cheeks as Spencer's lips enveloped hers. He… he had… She didn't know exactly what this meant, but she knew it was good.

They pulled away from each other breathlessly, and he said, "I think…" He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his drumming heart.

Sam wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "You think what?" she asked, praying that it was good.

"I think I'm ready," he finished, staring at her, taking in every centimeter of her face.

"Ready?" she asked, confused. She had no idea what he was talking about.

He leaned in toward her ear, sending shivers down her spine at his warm breath on her ear. "I'm ready to say I love you," he whispered.

More tears fell from her chocolate brown eyes. "I love you too, Spence," she replied, her heart soaring, her lips forming an unstoppable smile. She let him take her lips in his again as the music continued around them.

_Oh! There'll be times when I'm mistaken  
There'll be times when we're gonna fight  
But you needn't doubt we can work it out  
And in time we'll get it right.  
So forgive me if we go slow _

_but there's something I think you should know..._

_I'm going fast as I can, please don't make me rush  
This feeling's coming on way too fast  
I'll tell you all of the things that you'll never forget  
But I'm not ready say, "I love you" yet  
I'm not ready to say "I love you" yet._

Sam and Spencer held onto each other for the rest of the night and fell asleep in each other's arms. This was happiness, and they knew that what they were feeling wasn't going to change anytime soon.

AN: Yes! I finally let them get together! I bet you're all really happy! This chapter was hard for me to start actually. I knew what I wanted to happen, but I couldn't seem to get it on the page. But then I got inspired and here it is! I hope you like it! Oh, and FYI, my uber fan, SquishyCool, has nominated me for a UFO award! So when the voting starts, go vote for me! I'm under the Works in Progress section. ANYWAYS, thanks to everyone for the reviews, R&R, and I'll update as soon as possible! AND, if you want to hear the songs, just youtube "Fast I Can" and "Run Runaway" by great big sea.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 14

The next two weeks seemed to fly by rather quickly. They spent their time together laughing and joking. She even decided to sit and pose for a few drawings. When Sam would wake up screaming from a dream, Spencer would hold her in his arms and make her laugh and force her to watch silly kung fu movies. This was the life that Sam had always imagined with Spencer.

Sam woke one morning before Spencer did, and she looked up at the man who held her. He looked at peace, his arms holding her so tightly. She snuggled against him, wanting to stay there forever.

"Hello!" a happy voice called as the door slammed closed. "Spencer! Sam!"

Sam shot up quickly and said, "Oh shit." What was Carly doing home?

Spencer woke at her sudden movements and grumbled, pointing into the distance of the room, "Those penguins are midgsesas eng tjcheasos…"

She furrowed her brow at him. "What?" she asked.

"Midgets in tuxedos!" He clarified sleepily. "And I want to buy them a drink," he added as he rolled over.

She shook him roughly. "Enough about the penguins!" she cried.

"Midgets!" he shouted in return.

She rolled her eyes and continued her shaking. "We have to get up!"

"Why?" he groaned, bringing an arm over his face.

"Carly's home," she started to say, panic entering her voice, "and you're lying in bed with her best friend!"

Spencer shot up into a sitting position, the severity of the situation finally hitting him, and fell off the edge of the bed. "Ow!" he groaned before popping to his feet. He swung open his bedroom door and nearly ran into his little sister and her boyfriend. "Hey, little sister!" he called excitedly, trying to cover up the fact that he was slightly flustered. "There's nothing suspicious going on here at all…"

She laughed and threw her arms around him. "Good to see you, Spence!" she said. "We have a few days off so we decided to visit."

He returned the hug halfheartedly, praying she didn't see Sam sitting on his bed. "Good to you see too," he replied.

Then Freddie spoke for the first time. "Hi, Sam," he said, looking past the happy family reunion in front of him.

Spencer and Sam both froze. This was going to be hard to explain. "Hey, guys," she replied bashfully.

Carly released her brother and stepped past him. She looked to her best friend, then to her brother and back again. "What are you doing in here?" she asked her friend.

Sam hesitated. This was easy to explain. She had a nightmare was all… "Uh, well…"

"And why are you wearing my brother's clothes?" she added.

Sam could feel her breath hitch in her chest. She had totally forgotten that she had slept in a pair of his sweat pants and a t-shirt with the words "fruit-cake!" written brazenly across the chest. This one wasn't as easy to explain. "Uh, well…" She looked to Spencer desperately, begging him silently to help her.

Spencer made two quick strides towards Sam and placed an arm around her shoulders. "I'm dating Sam," he said matter-of-factly.

Carly's eyes widened. "You're whating who now?"

Sam chewed her bottom lip nervously. She hadn't thought about what Carly would say about this. In the past two or so weeks, she hadn't even thought about Carly's feelings about this whole thing… "I'm dating your brother," she said.

A silence fell over them for a few minutes. Carly didn't know what to say… So Freddie spoke up for her. "That's great, you guys!" he said excitedly, coming forward and giving Sam a hug.

"It's what?" Carly glared at him.

"It's great?" he sputtered, trying to hide behind a purple plastic houseplant.

"It is?" Spencer asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Yeah!" he insisted. And what surprised Sam was that he seemed to be telling the truth.

Sam looked to Carly. "What do you think?" she asked her best friend cautiously.

Carly let a smile come across her face. "Well, I guess if you guys are happy, then I'm happy," she sighed.

Sam leapt forward and threw her arms around her best friend. "Oh, thank you!"

"Uh, Spencer?" Carly asked through Sam's death grip. "Can I talk to you in the family room for a second?"

"Sure," he replied, taking Sam by the shoulders. "Sam, let go…"

Sam did as he asked and backed away from her friend. Spencer kissed her forehead before following his sister out into the family room.

"How are you feeling?" Freddie asked her after the door shut.

"Shhh," she hissed, leaning her ear against the door. "I want to hear this."

"So this is why you haven't been working?" Carly asked, turning to face her brother.

He furrowed his brow at her. "What are you talking about?" he replied, dropping onto the couch. "How do you know that I haven't done any sculptures?"

She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. "You send me pictures of every sculpture that you make. You haven't sent me one since Sam got hurt. Therefore, I have to assume you haven't made any. Right?"

He sighed. Damn it, she was right. "So what's your point?" he wanted to know.

Carly took a deep breath. "I think it's time Sam went home…"

AN: DUN DUN DUN! I know, this chapter sucked big time, but my boyfriend insisted that I update on Valentine's Day. So, it was rushed, but the next chapter will be better. Please R&R!


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 15

Spencer chuckled. His sister had to be joking. There was no way that she was demanding that he send her best friend home, just when she needed him most. "Ha, yeah, nice one, Carls," he said, moving towards his room. "Let's get them outta there before Sam castrates Freddie."

"I'm not joking, Spencer," she said stiffly. And he knew then that she wasn't.

His eyes narrowed at her. "What are you talking about?" he snapped at her, walking into the kitchen and picking up a dish towel.

"She's distracting you," she replied, standing up. "I'm just thinking about what's best for you. And her. Your art is how you make money, and if you don't make any sculptures, you don't make money." She sighed. "She's been eating up your time…"

He shook his head angrily. "No, wrong. I am not sending her home…"

"Spencer, you need money!" Carly growled at her older brother. She was feeling so tired of being the responsible one. Even though she didn't even live there anymore, she felt like she was the one making sure that Spencer was going to survive. "You haven't sculpted anything in weeks!"

He threw the towel down onto the counter and faced his baby sister, arms folding over his chest. "Well, if you haven't noticed, I've been a little busy. I've been taking care of Sam."

"She's 18, Spencer," she replied, leaning against the counter. "She can take care of herself. She doesn't need you to baby her."

"If you don't remember," he hissed, "she was stabbed not too long ago. She almost _died_, Carls. She came to me for help. And what was I supposed to do once she was out of danger? Send her back to her mom's? Would that be better?"

"No," she spat out through gritted teeth. "That would not be better, but…" Her voice softened as she shook her head. "Spencer, be real. You can't drop _everything_ because Sam got hurt. You need to keep your life going. You can't just stop."

"I'm not stopping," he insisted, stepping toward her. "I'm just… pausing for a second."

"Well, it's time to press play," she replied sharply.

Spencer's bedroom door swung open, and Sam came rushing out of it, heading towards the front door. She didn't say anything to Carly or Spencer, just went straight for the door. Spencer came into the room just as her hand caught the doorknob, and he asked, "Sam?"

"I got to go," she said quickly, yanking the door open, but Spencer grabbed her by her wrist before she could disappear through it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, completely serious. He knew that she had heard everything. He knew that she was trying to fix things and that she would do anything to help him. But he didn't need her to disappear from his life.

"I just need to go," she replied barely above a whisper, not daring a glance at him. "I need to be somewhere else."

"Where are you going to go, Sam?" he asked, matching her decibel. He'd never seen her like this before, and he wasn't sure that he liked it… "Where do you have to go to?"

She still refused to turn her head to look at him. "Anywhere but here."

Spencer pressed his palm against the door to keep her from opening the door any further. "What's wrong, Sammy?" he asked softly.

And for the first time, he saw the tears glistening in her eyelashes. "I just never thought my best friend could say something like that…" She sighed. "And what hurts more is that it's true…" Nudging the door open more, she sidled out of the apartment before racing down the stairs.

He turned to his sister. "Do you see what you did?" he shouted at her.

"She needed to go home, Spencer," she growled back. "Don't get all snarky with me just because you got distracted."

"She's not a distraction!" he bellowed. He picked up his keys up from the counter and snapped, "I'm bringing her back," before disappearing through the door.

Sam had made it downstairs and out of the lobby (not without Lewbert shouting, "Don't get blood on my floor this time!") and was heading down the street. How could she be so stupid to think that Carly would be okay with her and Spencer together? She was breaking one of the girl rules: No dating your friend's brother. But it wasn't as if they hadn't broken rules before, seeing as they both tried to date Shane at the same time…

And Sam's head was in such a fog about Carly, she walked down the wrong alleyway… again.

At first, she didn't know what she was looking at. A group of people not much older than her were huddled together, talking in hushed voices. Then when a set of blue eyes met hers, she knew she was in trouble. "Hey, Girlie," the boy said, and she recognized the voice immediately. It was the voice from her dreams… This was the guy that stabbed her….

AN: Sorry this took so long but I had writer's block. But I'm updating now. So please R&R!


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 16

"S- sorry," Sam stuttered, taking a few steps back.

"Whoa, Girlie," the boy said, stepping out of the huddle towards her. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, just passing through," she said, backing up.

"Hey, DJ," a voice called from the group, "Isn't that the girl who tried to spy on us before?"

The boy near her looked her up and down, a small smirk intruding on his face. "I believe it is," he replied, stepping toward her even more. "So, did you keep your mouth shut, Girlie?" He reached into his pocket, pulling something small out. "Or do I have to teach you a lesson?" He fiddled with the item in his hand until he flicked his wrist, a blade flipping out.

"I…" she stuttered. "I don't even remember anything…"

He nodded, his eyes narrowing at her. "Good. 'Cause if you did say something," he said, stepping closer to her, the blade held tightly in his hand, "then we'd have a problem. Do we have a problem?"

"Uh," was all she managed to get out before a figure flew down from the fire escape above them, taking out a few of the boy's friends.

The boy looked over his shoulder to see what was happening, giving Sam the opportunity to jump him from behind. He tossed her off with ease once he got over the initial shock and turned to face her, pointing his blade toward where she had fallen on the ground. "Now, I know you didn't just do that," he snapped. "Because that would be a problem." He knelt to look her in the eye. "And we don't have a problem, now do we?"

She knew that she shouldn't, but she proceeded to spit at him, just enraging him. He moved closer to her, the knife ready in his hand. His hand was just twitching with anticipation, ready for it…

The figure came up behind the boy and grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie. Spencer looked the boy straight in the eye and hissed, "You better get the heck out of her before I call the friggen cops."

As soon as he was released, the boy took off running, his friends chasing after him, equally scared.

"I so should've been wearing my mask for that," Spencer said proudly as he turned to her and pulled her to her feet.

Sam, on the other hand, did not look amused. "I had a handle on the situation, you know." She sounded perturbed, and at the very least ungrateful.

Spencer had no idea why she was so mad. But rather than questioning her hostility like he should have, he snapped, "Like you had a handle on it _last time_?"

She yanked her hands away from him and stepped back. "I don't need you to take care of me, Spencer," she growled. "I'm old enough to take care of myself." She brushed by him quickly and continued down the street.

"Look," Spencer said in a hasty tone as he ran after her, "I don't know what I did to make you so mad. I was just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," she shot back over her shoulder.

He stopped in his tracks, his stomach clenching as the reality hit him. She didn't need his help? "Then why did you come to me in the first place?"

She stopped too and turned to face him. She struggled to not show him any emotion on her face. "Because at the time, I _did_ need help." She dragged her eyes away from his; they would break her, and she knew it. This was much more difficult than she thought. "I don't now. So, I'm helping you out." Again, she turned around and started to walk away.

But yet again, Spencer followed her. "Helping _me_?" he asked. "How is you running away helping me?"

She stopped suddenly, causing him to bump into her. He took a step back as she turned around to face him. "I'm not running away," she replied, not daring to catch his brown eyes. "I'm going home."

He scoffed. She couldn't be serious. "You're calling that place home?" he growled, gesturing in the direction she had been heading. "That house with your mom and stepdad who haven't even called you since you disappeared three weeks ago?" He shook his head disappointedly. "Or is it back at my place with me, who loves you more than I can even describe?"

The truth hurt Sam so much. She nibbled on her bottom lip and failed to keep her tears from falling. She knew he was right- he was her home, her family. But… there was something that she needed to do, something she needed to let _him_ do. "I love you so much, Spence," she choked out. "But that's why I gotta leave."

She turned to walk away, but Spencer's warm hand latched onto her wrist. "I don't understand," he said strongly. "If you leave, how does that help me? In _any_ stretch of the imagination?"

Her blue eyes were watered down with her tears as she stared up at him. "Because Carly's right."

That statement floored him. He felt his lungs deflate, his head spun, and he felt as though he had been knocked back onto his ass. "No," he insisted. "No, she's not."

She shook her head, tears creeping down her cheeks. This wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to leave Spencer alone… But that was best, right? "Please, Spence. Just let me go. That way I can't distract you."

"Don't go, you don't distract me," he begged, holder onto her wrist tighter than before. "I promise."

She squeezed her eyes shut, begging for her tears to stop. "Don't make this harder than it has to be." Wiping her eyes, she said, "You haven't done one sculpture since I got hurt." A sigh escaped her lips. "I can't hold you back… As soon as you're done with one, I'll come back. Sorry, but I gotta go…"

She tugged her arm to remove it from his grip, but he refused to let go. With a swift yank on her wrist, he pulled her into him and captured her lips with his. He didn't want her to go, he wanted her to stay with him forever, to never leave his side.

She stepped backward, paralyzed from his kiss. Her head was doing circles. She didn't really have to leave, did she? Yes… She did. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, just loud enough for him to hear it."

This time, she had no problem taking her wrist from Spencer. He knew she had made up her mind, and with her as stubborn as she was, there was no changing it. His heart had never felt as heavy as it did at the moment that he stood on the street, watching the girl he loved walk away from him and not knowing when she'd come back.

AN: Sorry that this took me so long, I just had writer's block I guess. But it's done and I should have the next chapter up a lot sooner (it's almost done anyways). Alright, you know the deal R&R!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 17

Spencer couldn't really feel his toes. Or his feet. Or anything above that. He couldn't really feel anything as he trudged back to the apartment. How could she just walk away from him like that? Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for him to get back to work, it had been weeks.

He went into the apartment and found Carly sitting on the couch, his sketchbook lying open on her lap. He sighed. That damn sketchbook seemed to give him more trouble than it really should've. "Where'd you find that?" he asked, defensively. He'd been pretty sure that he had hidden it under his mattress…

She raised her head slowly, her eyes glittering in excitement and a smile danced across her face. "I was wrong," she said, her smile refusing to disappear.

He raised a suspicious eyebrow at his sister. "About what?" he asked, never taking an eye from her.

"You have been working," she replied, gesturing toward the book.

He rolled his eyes and headed toward the kitchen. "That's not work," he called back to her. "They're just some drawings I did for fun."

She stood, closing the sketchbook and holding it out toward her brother. "But you're an artist, this _is_ your work."

"No," he replied, his voice becoming stiff as he opened the fridge. He was looking for anything, just something to hold onto and mess with as his sister barraged him with her inquiry. "I'm a sculptor, those are just silly doodles."

"But they're good!" she insisted, tapping the cover excitedly. "You could sell these!"

Spencer slammed the refrigerator door so hard that the cabinets around it shook slightly. "I said no," he growled through gritted teeth. "Those are not for sale."

Carly looked up into his angry blue eyes, confused. "But why not?"

He snatched the drawing book from her hands and scoffed. "You don't understand do you?" he snapped, walking by her. He was steaming. How dare his little sister –Sam's best friend –insist that he sell the drawings of her.

She followed him back into the family room, harping, "How can I understand when you don't tell me anything?"

He turned on her. "These drawings," he said, placing a hand on the cover of the book, "aren't just pictures of Sam," he explained. "These are all of my feelings for Sam put on paper." He scoffed and started to turn away, but decided to turn back. The notebook flew from his hand to Carly who caught it in surprise. "If you want to sell those," he said, turning away, "then fine." His door slammed with all the strength he could muster, leaving his little sister standing in the family room, dumbfounded.

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Sam walked into her house, trying to shake the feeling that was plaguing her. It felt like something was literally crawling on her skin, and she wanted it off. She didn't want to leave Spencer alone. She wanted to be with him, help him with his work, support him in any way that she could. But she knew that Carly was right: Sam was a distraction.

Though the sun had just barely set outside, her mom was passed out on the couch, a glass of her "lemonade" (aka lemonade powder mixed with vodka) in her hand. Sam sighed. This was something that she had not missed during the weeks of being at the Shay's. She was tired of being the adult… "Hey, Mom," she said softly, kneeling down and shaking her gently.

She opened her eyes slowly and smiled once she saw her daughter. "Sammy," she said sleepily as she sat up. "Did you like the movie?"

Sam hid her frown. This wasn't the first time that she had woken her mom and she thought that Sam had been somewhere totally different from where she'd actually had been. Over time, Sam learned to just go along with it. "Really good, Mom," she replied, putting on a fake smile.

Sam helped her mom to her feet and led her to bed. She was used to this, but sometimes, she felt tired of being the one taking care of the other. She was the kid, right? Shouldn't she be the one taken care of? And where was her stepdad?

Sam wandered into the living room just as the front door burst open. Her stepdad wobbled in and stopped at the sight of her. "Bout time you came home," he grumbled. He staggered toward her, but she stepped back. "You were supposed to call."

"I was at the Shay's," she explained, continuing to back up. "I got sick."

He scoffed and wobbled. It was obvious that he had more than a little "Captain" in him. "Your mother has been worried sick about you."

Sam rolled her eyes. He had to be kidding. "She seemed fine to me. And it's not like you guys couldn't call me, I had my cell. But you were just too wasted-"

His hand raised quickly causing Sam to flinch. "That was a warning," he hissed. "Do not talk to your father like that."

"You're not my real father," she spat back at him. And immediately, she knew that it was a mistake.

His hand came across her face rapidly, the slapping sound echoing around them. "I'm more of a father than your 'real father' will ever be," he growled.

She brought her head back up as quickly as she could, her hair falling into her face. "Shut the hell up!" she shouted at him. How dare he talk about her father like that? How dare he-

He grabbed a handful of her hair roughly, bringing her face closer to his. "I'll make you eat your words…" He threw her against the wall but refused to let go of his hold on her blonde curls. He dragged her off the wall and tossed her to the floor. "That'll teach you to mouth off," he grumbled, wandering off down the hallway.

Sam laid there for a while, not wanting to move. She was used to this by now, and she knew that it was best to lie still for a few minutes, to check if she wasn't too badly hurt and let him know she had given up. Deciding she would survive her bruises, she finally made her way to her feet and she moved to her room, closed the door, and thought about how much she was missing Spencer.

AN: Evil… Anyways, talk about a quick update. So, please R&R!


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, any of the characters, or any of the places mentioned. I pretty much own nothing… except for the laptop on which I am currently typing.

Chapter 18

"Yes," Spencer said into the phone, tapping his foot impatiently. "You can pick it up next Thursday. No, thank you. Okay, bye." He hung up the phone and sighed. It had only been two days since Sam had left, and he missed her more than he really should've already.

"Who was that?" Carly asked as she emerged from the kitchen.

"A job," he replied, stretching his legs out onto the coffee table. "The manager from Chili My Bowl wants a giant bowl of chili for the roof."

She sat down next to him. "That's awesome, Spence," she said cheerfully.

"Yeah," he muttered. No matter how hard he tried, no matter that it was good news, he couldn't even pretend to be happy.

Carly could see this and said, "This is a good thing, Spencer," worry coming over her features.

He sighed. "I know," he replied. He stood slowly and muttered something about supplies and junkyard and walked out the door, leaving Carly alone.

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"Open this door!" Sam's step-dad yelled from the other side of Sam's bedroom door.

"No!" she shouted at him from her place on her bed. She had made the mistake of snapping at him early that day and saying that she wished she was back at the Shay's. He had not taken this well, and Sam took refuge in her bedroom.

"Samantha! Open this damn door right now!" he bellowed, banging his fist against the door. "You will not act like a child!"

"Shut the hell up!" she screamed at him. God, she was wishing so hard at the moment that she had never left Spencer's place… "I don't have to come out! I don't have to do anything that you tell me to! I'm 18, for Christ's sake!"

The pounding on the door continued. "But as long as you live here, you do as I say!"

"Fine!" she shouted, throwing her pillow at the closed door. "Then I'll live somewhere else!"

She could her him chuckle on the other side of the door. "Like where? Where do you have to go?"

She stood and marched over to the door before stating proudly, "The Shay's! Spencer loves me and I know he will take care of me! And I love him!"

There was a moment of silence. She had a feeling that saying this might've been a mistake, that maybe he'd go after Spencer just to hurt her. But then again, he liked to fight those who were smaller and weaker than him… "You can't be in love with Spencer!" he continued finally as he continued to bang on her bedroom door. "You are just a stupid teenage girl!"

She slammed her fist against the wood in return. "I may be a stupid teenage girl, but I know more about love than an inconsiderate asshole like you ever will!"

The pounding on the door quickened. "Come out here and say that to my face, you cowardly little bitch!" he shouted.

"No!" she screamed, kicking the wood panel keeping them apart. "I'm not coming out!"

"Get your scrawny little ass out here now!" he bellowed, refusing to give up on his relentless banging on the door.

"FUCK YOU!" she shouted back.

As the words fell from her mouth, the door swung open with one final crash as he used his entire body to shove through. Sam was terrified, she had no idea what he was going to do to her, but she knew what he was capable of. He took hold of a fistful of her blonde curls and dragged her from her bedroom. "I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget," he growled.

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Spencer wasn't exactly sure how he got here. He could've sworn he'd been driving to the junkyard for supplies for his project, but somehow, he wound up in front of Sam's house. Then he realized that he had been thinking about her the whole time he was driving. He didn't care what she wanted him to believe or what Carly said, he couldn't do this without her. He couldn't sculpt without her around.

As he raised a curled hand to knock, a scream came from inside. He froze. _Was that Sam?_

"Get the fuck away from me!" she shouted frantically.

He panicked. That was Sam. His heart started thumping against his ribcage and his hands started shaking furiously. He'd heard that Sam's stepdad had a bit of a violent streak, that he was always sort of hard on Sam's mom. Had he taken it out on Sam this time?

As a crash echoed, Spencer couldn't help himself from just barging into the house. There was a lot to take in. The coffee table had been overturned, sending everything that was on it over the floor. The pillows and cushions from the couch had been removed and thrown around. The pieces of shattered glass were scattered all over the floor and whatever liquid had been in it was dripping down the wall. And there they stood: Sam and her stepdad. He had her pressed against the wall, his hand clamped tightly around her throat. She was having trouble breathing, she clawed at the hand that was slowly strangling her.

Spencer wasn't sure what came over him, but he rushed forward and yanked him backwards, forcing him to release Sam. She gasped for air and slid to the floor, pulling her knees against her chest.

Her stepdad looked angrier than ever and he growled, "What the fuck do you think you are doing here? Come to get this bitch out of my house?"

Spencer's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped. "Where do you get off treating her that way? And what does it matter? I love her! And it's none of your fucking business!" He stepped even closer, forcing Sam's stepdad back. "You aren't even her real father. I'm taking her back to my place, and she's not coming back. I'll come for her things later. Understand?"

Her stepdad said nothing before scoffing and disappearing into his bedroom. "It's not like _I_ need _her…_" he grumbled.

Spencer turned to her and helped her to her feet. "Come on, let's get back home," he said softly as they walked out the front door.

AN: Hey, sorry this took so long, but I was without my power cord for my laptop for like a week, so I wanted to conserve my battery. And besides, I updated two chapters last time, so I figured you guys could live. Anyways, please R&R and I should have the next chapter up soon!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 19

Spencer kept his arm wrapped around Sam's waist as they walked into the elevator of Bushwell Plaza. "Spencer, I'm fine," she insisted as he held her tightly against him.

"I can't believe him," Spencer just growled in return. "How could he do that to you?"

Her eyes focused on the floor by her feet. "I'm kinda used to it by now…"

He stared at her in shock. He reached out and clutched her chin in his hand, bringing her face up so her eyes met his. To him, her face looked beautiful even though it was battered and bruised. "How long has he been doing this?"

Her face was practically stone as she replied, "How long has he been married to my mom?"

Spencer didn't have time to respond before the elevator binged, announcing their arrival, and whooshed open. As they stepped out, Carly rushed forward. "Your stepdad again?" she asked, following their path to the couch.

Sam nodded stiffly. It was now beginning to hurt to move her neck too much.

He helped her down onto the couch and turned to his sister. "You knew about her stepdad hitting her?" he asked harshly.

Carly looked confused. What did she have to do with this? "Of course," she replied matter-of-factly. "She's only been my best friend since forever. She tells me absolutely everything."

"And you didn't feel the need to –I don't know_ –tell_ _me _this?" he snapped, walking toward the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I didn't exactly _know_ that you were going to fall in love with my best friend. Who is _twelve years younger_ than you, if you remember," she spat.

"That's not even what I _mean_," he growled at her, taking an ice pack from the freezer. "I'm an adult, Carly. You could've told me what was happening a long time ago and I… I could've done _something_!"

She scoffed as she watched him walk back over to Sam and sit down next to her. "Oh, yeah, like what?"

Spencer looked to Sam, who seemed concerned, and made a motion toward her face with the ice pack, silently asking her permission. She nodded, and he pressed the ice lightly to her face, causing her to flinch. He hated this, he didn't want her in pain… "I could've informed the police or something…" he grumbled.

Carly scoffed yet again. "And let them take her away? No thanks, I'll pass."

He wanted to scream. _When_ did his sister get so difficult? "Well, what would you have done, _Sis_?" he snapped.

"Hey," Sam said quietly, not catching either's attention.

She stepped forward, pressing a hand to her chest. She was acting very defensive, her body language and the way she was staring him down. "_I_ did whatever _I _could to help her. _I_ took care of her injuries more times than I can count. But did _you_ even notice?"

He hesitated. Had he ever noticed? Sure, there were times she seemed down, but he'd never noticed any _abuse_…

"For someone you've supposedly been in love with for years, you sure don't seem to pay a whole hell of a lot of attention," she hissed.

Just as Spencer opened, his mouth to retort, Sam spoke again, this time shouting, "HEY!"

The ice pack nearly fell from Spencer's hand, and Carly crouched down on the floor next to the couch. Once she knew she had their attention, she continued, turning her attention to Spencer first, "Spence, it's not Carly's fault that she didn't tell you."

"Ha!" Carly snapped at her brother triumphantly.

"Shut up," Sam growled at her best friend. Her attitude softened as she looked back to Spencer. "I begged her not to tell anyone because I…" she sighed, clenching her hands together, "I was afraid that if people found out, I'd be taken away. Taken away from you guys…"

There was a silent moment as the two siblings processed what she said. She put up with a step parent who used her as a punching bag because she didn't want to leave them?

"And Carly," she said, facing her friend now. "It's not Spencer's fault that he didn't see anything."

"HA!" Spencer shot at his sister.

"Quiet!" she snapped at him, shutting him up quickly.

"Don't you remember, Carls?" she asked as she turned to her again. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head to the side as though she was trying to shake the memories loose. "Don't you remember all those times that you'd go in and distract him while I ran upstairs to your bedroom so he didn't see my face? Or the fact that we'd cover everything up with makeup so he couldn't even seen the bruises? We never gave him a _chance_ to see anything…"

Carly hung her head as the memories came flooding back to her. "Yeah," she barely whispered.

Everything being said, Sam stood up, taking the ice from Spencer's hand. "I think I'm going to go lay down…"

"I'll walk you," he said, standing up, taking her by the waist and leading her into his bedroom.

AN: I told you I'd get this chapter up fast! Anyways, please R&R!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 20

Spencer came back into the family room and sat next to his sister uncomfortably. They had never really fought that much, especially over something as big as this… "So…" he said, not able to think of what to really say.

"I'm not okay with this, Spencer," Carly replied pointedly, her arms crossed snuggly over her chest.

"I don't care," he said simply with a laugh on the edge of his voice. And he realized that it was true: he really _didn't _care if his sister was okay with it or not, all that mattered was him and Sam and how they felt about each other. "I don't care if you like it or not…"

"It's wrong," she growled, tightening her arms over her chest more. Spencer was fairly sure she'd break herself in half if she squeezed much tighter. "You're too old for her…"

He smiled at her. When did his sister get so closed-minded? "The age thing isn't a problem for us…"

That's when she cracked. She'd been doing her best to keep her cool, but her brother was being too difficult to reason with. "She's _my_ age, Spencer!" she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter!" He grabbed her by her shoulders, sending a confused look across her face, and shook her. "Don't you get it? When two people find a connection, age isn't a big deal!"

She was so confused. Nothing that had made sense before was making sense now. Everything was changing… "But… but," she stammered.

"Why can't you just let them be happy?"

It wasn't Spencer who spoke this time. Freddie, who'd been up in their old studio doing god-knows-what, was standing on the landing of the stairs, laptop in hand. "Why can't they have the happiness that you and I have, Carls?" he asked, stepping down the rest of the stairs.

She sighed, running a hand through her long brown hair. "You too, Freddie?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah, me too. What do you have against them being together?"

She couldn't really form the words about _why_ she didn't want them together, she just didn't. "I… I don't know... I guess the age thing."

"But you should understand that when you find someone that you have a connection with, trivial things like age don't really matter," he explained, hoping that his girlfriend would see reason. "All that really matters to the two of them is each other. Just like when I fell in love with you. I didn't care that you didn't even feel the same. I was patient because I knew that one day things would change. And nothing that anybody told me changed that. Are you really trying to force one of them to change how they feel? Cause I gotta tell you, that's not gonna happen."

Carly scowled prettily, her arms crossed over her chest. "It's not the age thing!" she growled.

Spencer looked confused. "Wait… that's not what's bugging you now?"

"I can change my mind, can't I?" she snapped. He hated this about his sister. When she was pissed off or something wasn't going how she wanted, she got all mouthy.

"Then what _is_ bugging you?" Freddie asked her. He wanted her to calm down and realize that her brother deserved happiness.

She turned away from both of them, gathering her thoughts slowly. "Because…" she murmured. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. Spencer wasn't supposed to have feelings for Sam… "Because…" She wasn't supposed to have feelings for him… She spun around rapidly, her hair flying around her head, tears streaming down her face. "Because you aren't good enough for her!"

The words floated above their heads, circling around them again and again. Carly stood there with her tears falling freely from her eyes now. Freddie was shocked, his lower jaw practically scraping the floor. And Spencer was pissed. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. "_What_?" he finally managed to croak after a few minutes. "_What do you mean by that_?" Never in his life had he felt so… furious at his sister before. Sure, she'd done stupid things before, like sneaking out to the MMA fight, but he had never felt this pissed at her. She had crossed a line this time.

Carly couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks now. "You can't take care of her," she said softly. "She may act tough, but she has a soft-side too…"

"I know that," he replied stiffly, his fists clenched at his sides. "I know that she needs to be taken care of! What do you thi-"

"You're irresponsible!" she interrupted, making her brother shut up. "You don't have a steady income or anything. How do you think you can help her? She needs to be taken care of by someone who can be there for her. And you're just not responsible enough to do that."

He stood there, speechless. How was he supposed to respond to that? So he made a snap decision: he wouldn't. Stepping away from both Freddie and Carly, he walked toward his bedroom door, where he hoped Sam was still sleeping soundly. He reached for the door before quickly changing his mind and pulling his hand away. He looked over his shoulder at them. Carly was still crying, and he was pretty sure Freddie's feet had been fused to the floor. "I know I take good care of Sam. I don't need your approval, Carls. I don't _care_ about your approval. But I'm pretty sure that Sam would want her best friend to be okay with her relationship." He shrugged and added, "I don't know, just saying," before turning back around and disappearing into his bedroom.

AN: Sorry, I know I keep promising to update sooner, but I've been pretty busy. So anyways, please R&R!


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 21

Carly couldn't sleep that night. Her head kept circling itself over and over again. Did Freddie have a point? And she knew that, yeah, Sam would like her to like her boyfriend, but this was something so completely different that her having another boyfriend…

Spencer _did_ pretty much raise her, but…

But Spencer couldn't even take care of a goldfish, for God's sake! Things always tended to burst into flame around him… If she wasn't mostly self-sufficient when she was younger, she probably would've starved… not that Sam has a problem with starving.

No, things between Sam and Spencer couldn't continue. And as she sat on the family room couch, the thought of the two of them sleeping in the same bed in just one room over gave her a migraine.

Spencer's bedroom door swung open, and he ran out, pulling a jacket on as he did. He went by Carly without a word until she yelled, "Where are you going?"

"Pudding run!" he called back over his shoulder before disappearing through the front door.

Carly just shook her head. Only her brother would run out at two in the morning for pudding. Some things about Spencer would never change.

But then there were things that _did_ change. Like how he felt about long-term, serious relationships. Like how he felt about Sam… And maybe that was what freaked Carly out the most; the thought that he was going to be responsible for the happiness of one of the most important people in her life kind of scared her.

Sam was tough, Carly knew that. But she knew that Sam could also be very fragile at times, when nobody else was around. The thought of Spencer being the one to take care of her, or the thought of him being the one who could keep her on Cloud 9 or be the one to break her heart: those thoughts really, really scared Carly. She wondered if he was even capable of taking care of her… If he'd be able to help her when no one else could…

A scream pierced the still air of the apartment. Carly had been so lost in thought that she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound. Was that Sam?

Carly got to her feet hesitantly and crept toward the bedroom door. If she hadn't seen Spencer leave just seconds before, she could've sworn it was one of _those_ screams… which it wasn't, she was sure…. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped in, keeping all of her weight on her toes.

Sam's sleeping form had curled itself up in the blankets and sheets of Spencer's bed, tossing and turning. She was muttering something Carly couldn't really understand, only hearing every few words like "don't" or "help."

The muttering grew louder. "No… I won't tell… Stop! Leave me alone!"

Carly was shocked. She had no idea that Sam had been screaming in her sleep. The muttering continued. "Please… Help…. Help me!" Another scream erupted from her mouth, Then another and another.

Carly Shay had never felt so frozen in her life. Here her best friend was, screaming bloody murder in her sleep, and she couldn't bring herself to step forward and wake her. What was _wrong_ with her?

Luckily, she didn't have to do anything; the tall form of her brother brushed by her, shoving a 12-pack of pudding into her hands as he went by.

Carly watched in awe as her brother reacted. He didn't even hesitate to wake her up. He wasn't at all shocked when she shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air as though she had been deprived of it. His arms scooped her up, and the two of them sat there, him rocking her gently.

"Go get some popcorn and three cans of peppy cola," he instructed Carly, speaking to her for the first time.

"What?" she asked confused.

"Just do it," he demanded impatiently.

Carly did as she was told. What did these things do to help Sam? She didn't understand….

But when she walked back into the bedroom, it became apparent that Spencer knew exactly what he was doing. He sat there with Sam in his arms, just rocking back and forth, whispering into her ear, "Shh, it's okay," as she cried onto his shoulder. Carly had never seen a sight that seemed so right.

"Pick out a Kung Fu movie," Spencer told Carly, causing her to jump. She hadn't expected him to say anything else. "Oh, okay," she replied, setting the food and drinks down before running over to Spencer's TV.

They all settled down on Spencer's bed as the movie started up. Carly realized throughout the movie that Sam became happier as time went on. And by the end of it, she was fast asleep.

"Hey, Spence," Carly whispered to her brother.

He shushed her with a finger to his lips and gestured toward the living room. Sliding Sam gently from her place on his chest, he stood and left the room.

Carly followed and said immediately, "I was wrong."

His face contorted into confusion. "What?"

"About you being irresponsible," she explained, pacing a little.

Spencer did his best to hide a smirk. "Really?" he asked, his arms folding over his chest.

"I mean, yeah, things do tend to catch on fire when you're around and you thought it was a good idea to take advice from a magic meatball and you fell asleep on a bus and woke in Canada _and_ you've killed like a hundred fish…"

"Your point?" Spencer interrupted. This list could go on for a while if he didn't stop her now…

"My point _is_," she continued, "that you are actually responsible when you really care about something. Or someone. I forgot how much you took care of me when I was little, the fact that you kept my inhaler for years after I stopped needing it, and the fact that…. You really do care about Sam, don't you?"

He nodded.

"Then everything will be fine," she finished, hugging her brother.

He hugged her in return and said, "Thanks, Sis. Go to bed now."

Spencer went back to his room and laid down next to Sam, enveloping her in his arms.

"She's okay with it now?" Sam asked softly.

He kissed her earlobe and whispered, "I think so."

AN: I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so SO sorry that this took so long. But things have been hectic and I wrote this chapter down in two separate notebooks. So I found one notebook and typed what was in that one, but I couldn't find the other one…. Then when I found that notebook, I realized that I didn't finishing writing the chapter! So now I finally finished and I'm FINALLY updating. So sorry this took so long… Anyways, this is not the last chapter, however next chapter is. So please R&R!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, you all should know this by now.

Chapter 22

SeaTac Airport was busy as always as Spencer, Sam, Freddie, and Carly stood outside of the security checkpoint. The other travelers surged around them and filed through.

Sam hugged her best friend. "It's been good to see you," she said.

Carly smiled, though her friend couldn't see it. "Yeah, it's been good to see you too." Her gaze landed on her older brother, who was trying to get Freddie to smell the bottom of his shoe. "Take care of him, okay?"

A laugh escaped Sam's throat. "Will do."

The two broke apart and turned to the others. "Fredward!" Sam called happily, raising a hand to him.

Freddie laughed and high-fived her, trying to dodge Spencer's persistent eccentricities. "Whatever, Samantha."

Spencer looked down at his little sister putting his shoe back on. "Take care of yourself, Sis. And if you need any money…" he thought for a second. "Get a job?" he finished jokingly. "Or something..."

Her arms stretched out to him. "Thanks, Bro."

He wrapped his arms around his sister and gave her a big bear hug. "Love you, Carls."

She squeezed him childishly. "Love you too, Spence."

Freddie and Carly grabbed their carry-ons and headed through the security gates, waving once they were on the other side.

As they turned away, Sam gave Spencer a giant hug. He held her tightly against him. "I'm glad this worked out," he whispered to her.

Her blue eyes twinkled up at him happily. "Me too. Everything's good."

Together, they left the airport, heading back to Spencer's place. They spent the rest of the day cuddling on the couch, watching kung fu movies, and talking. Around midnight, they called it a night and went to bed.

Spencer wrapped his arms around Sam, holding her tightly against him. He kissed her neck and said, "I love you, Sam."

"Love you too, Spencer," she replied, leaning her head against him.

They laid there in silence for a few minutes until finally Sam spoke. "Spencer," she started cautiously, "is that your lucky flashlight?"

His grip around her tightened and a wide grin spread over his face. "Nope."

AN: I know, it was a short chapter, but I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. And then school got hectic. But I needed to get something up. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out, but it's not terrible. So, here it is, the last chapter. Hope you enjoyed the story! I will be doing another iCarly story, but I'm working on a different project before I post that one so, it will take a while. As always, R&R!


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